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omgeto · 9 months

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☆ GIMME, GIMME MORE — GETO SUGURU

summary: you were just a stripper who had no desire to fuck with any customers, but there was just one you couldn’t shake. once he laid his eyes on you, he wanted you. and with every little piece of you he got — he wanted more.

wc: 6.5k (my longest fic ever, lord help me) its a lot of plot with a nice chunk of smut

cw: afab!stripper!reader, angst to fluff, smutty smut, you fuck in his car, you fuck in a private room (i remembered condoms this time) so mdni sassy geto, if you squint.

an: listen to this song to feel the vibe, I love me some geto and I’ve yet to do a fic for him so I hope you enjoy this one.

the entrance to the high-end club exudes an air of opulence, with its glimmering lights and sophisticated clientele. geto suguru strolls in alongside his best friend, gojo satoru, the low hum of the music washing over them. the glances around, a mixture of boredom and detachment etched on his face. this isn't really his scene, but gojo had insisted on a night out.

as they find their way to a table, surrounded by plush seating and an atmosphere of indulgence, geto's attention wanders. the dancers on stage move with practised sensuality, but his gaze remains distant. until, that is, a change in the music's tempo signals a shift in the performance.

the spotlight illuminates the stage, revealing a figure that seems to command the room's attention effortlessly. you move with a fluid grace, your body swaying in time with the sultry rhythm. the way your hips move, the confidence in your eyes, it's as if you own the room. gojo's earlier detachment gives way to fascination he can't deny.

he couldn’t take his eyes off the way you were sliding down the pole, leaning forward in his seat to see more of you. the star shaped nipple covers and the gem encrusted thong you were wearing left nothing to the imagination. but still he couldn’t help but picture it all off of you, leaning forward in his seat to try and get a closer look.

gojo nudges him playfully. "not bad, right?"

geto’s response is a low, appreciative whistle as his eyes remain locked on the captivating dancer. his heart races as he watches you command the stage, a magnetic presence that draws him in despite his earlier disinterest. he couldn’t help but feel that you were dancing for him, call him cocky but the way your eyes were locked on him as you threw your ass back against the pole — he knew that was just for him. he looked around the room and saw that everyone else was just as captivated by you as he was.

“she’s the best performer here, she doesn’t do private dances, she doesn’t even do a long set,” gojo brags to geto but he’s barely listening, his eyes too focused on you, “this is as much of her as we can get.”

as the performance reaches its climax, geto’s lips curve into a slow smile. gojo’s grin is knowing. "looks like someone's found their muse." geto’s tears his gaze away just as you exit the stage, his interest piqued.

“you’ve got a request,” your boss announces insistent and smug, cornering you immediately after you exit the stage.

“you know i don't do requests, i come here, i do a 30 minute set and i leave remember?” you retort, stepping to walk straight past him, but he stops you, standing in front of you to block your path.

“this is a request you can’t refuse,” he adds, a smirk forming on his lips. your eyes narrow at his words, already feeling a sense of unease.

“oh i think i can,” your intention is clear as you step forward, intending to brush past him and continue on your way. but he remains unmoved, determined to stand in your path, his stance a physical barrier you can't easily circumvent.

“there’s a special guest tonight, someone who’s willing to pay handsomely for a private performance,” he explains, his tone implying much more than his words reveal.

you pause, folding your arms, sceptical. “how much are we talking about?”

he names a figure that makes your eyebrows shoot up. It’s a significant sum, the kind that could cover your bills for months, or even help you save for a future beyond the club. but still, you hesitate.

“like i said, i don't take request,” you conclude, brushing past your boss.

“i don’t think this particular patron will like that,” he tries to argue, following directly behind you.

“ask me if i care,” with those words, you step forward once more, your purpose clear as you attempt to carry on. but his presence remains a persistent shadow at your side, his attempts to sway you far from over.

his argument falters momentarily, but he regains his composure quickly, his tone becoming insistent. "this particular patron isn't accustomed to denial. I don't think he'll take kindly to it."

a defiant smirk tugs at your lips, your patience waning as you find yourself driven further by your own principles. "well, here's a thought—perhaps he should learn."

with that final retort, you pivot on your heel, striding purposefully toward the locker room. the temptation of the significant sum and the vague promise of this special patron tug at the edges of your thoughts, but your determination remains resolute.

“if you don’t do it your fired.” he calls out after you, a desperate final attempt to get you to agree.

you knew you were going against your better judgement, but you turn back to face your boss and with a deep sigh you agree, “fine, i’ll do it. but you owe me.”

with simmering frustration bubbling beneath the surface, you push open the door to the private room, your entrance punctuated by the subtle swish of the heavy fabric. the air within was charged, a blend of anticipation and tension, as you found geto suguru lounging on the plush sofa, his presence an unwelcome sight that intensified your irritation.

your words come out abruptly, a firm reminder to both him and yourself, “i don’t fuck clients,” you state, a touch of defensiveness in your tone. you wanted to establish your boundaries, to make it clear you wouldn’t be swayed easily.

he chuckles, catching you off guard, his amusement evident. “thats nice…” he adds, with a hint of playfulness, “i just wanted to talk anyways.”

“to talk?” you question, surprised at his request, as you knew what went on in the private rooms and talking was far from that.

“yeah, just wanna get to know you,” he explains casually, his eyes studying you.

“i don’t do time wasters,” you complain, ready to leave the room, “and i don’t have time to waste.”

“even if im paying for your time?” he bargains, raising his eyebrows, “im sure your boss told you the pretty expensive bill im footing just for your time.”

crossing your arms, you met his gaze with a steady one of your own. “look, mr…?”

“just call me suguru,” he interjected with a smile that held a hint of charm.

“alright, suguru,” you continued, your tone resolute, “i'm not here to entertain idle chit-chat. i’ll dance for you for an hour and thats it. just abide by the club rules, otherwise im out.”

“why don’t you take private requests?” he inquiries, disregarding your comments.

“because i don’t have to,” you respond nonchalantly, “why are you so persistent that you pay for my time. there’s tons of other great strippers in this club.”

“because i want you.” he shrugs.

“well too bad,” you mock, “just because you have money doesn’t mean you can buy everything.”

“everyone’s got a price,” he argues, chuckling softly, a condescending tone underling his words, “ah, but isn't that the way the world works? everything has a price, even principles.”

the audacity of his statement ignited a fire within you, your voice heated with defiance and scorn. “you think im for sale? you think i’d compromise my integrity just for a fat stack of bills? you’re delusional.”

“oh but isn’t your integrity already compromised,” he teases, raising his eyebrows, “is miss, ‘i dont do private dances,’ not in a private dance with me right now?”

“you know wha–”

“i changed my mind. i don’t want to talk anymore,” there was a shift in his tone, amusement danced in his eyes, “strip for me.”

you were pissed. but you couldn’t actually argue – he was right. he was paying for your time and he could spend it anyway he wanted to. you’d rather have him silently watching you anyways than talking to you.

the music blared through the speakers in the room, and you immediately straddled geto, you could feel his dick harden underneath you. the only thing separating you two was the thin layer of fabric of your thong.

you could see him smirk at you, but you ignored him, grinding your hips down on him to the beat of the music. his starts to trail down your sides, but you give him a pointed look reminding him of the rules – no touching. he surrenders his hands placing them besides his head, content in watching you dance on his lap.

you moved off of him, using the pole that was in the room, his eyes stayed fixed on you. you wanted to put on a show for him, so you move your body expressing a mix of sensuality and power, your eyes lock onto his, daring him to challenge you further, to push your boundaries even more.

the hour was eventually up, and geto didn’t say anything as he left, he just leaves a fat stack of bills on the table, and for some reason you couldn’t bite your tongue, “is that it? you’re just going to leave?”

“well the hours up, no?” he responds, checking his watch, “and, i’ve paid you for your time.” you couldn’t argue with that, so you remain silent watching as he turns his back on you to leave the room.

“suguru,” you call out, getting him to pause, “wait.”

“i thought you didn’t fuck clients,” he smirks, coming up from in between your thighs, “but i am not complaining”

“s-shut up,” you exhale, you’d like to believe that you didn’t expect this to happen, but you knew that was a lie. you didn’t get far out of the club, in fact you didn’t make it out of the parking lot. the back of geto’s car seemed to be perfect with the way he was eating you out.

the feeling of geto sucking on your clit, had your head empty. his head being pressed between your thighs makes your back arch as you push up against his face. he laps against your folds, drowning in your wetness.

“‘i don’t do private dances,’” he mocks your previous words, amused with himself, “oh if only you could see yourself now.” he enjoyed you like this, pinned under him, your pussy dripping all over his face, you were a writhing mess; no longer complaining to him about his actions, you were reduced down to moans and incoherent sentences, the only thing he could hear clearly was his name.

“suguru ah s-shit,” you curse, as he presses down on your clit, “do you always talk this much?” you tangle your fingers in his hair, guiding his face closer in your pussy, his nose deep in your arousal. he was practically inhaling you, swirling his tongue deep inside, trying to taste every inch of you.

“‘m close suguru,” you whine, thrust up against his face aiming to reach your peak on your own.

“calm down princess,” he teases, pulling his lips away from your pussy, “didn’t know you were this eager.” he presses his lips down on yours, making you taste yourself as his hand goes behind your neck to hold you in place. “see how sweet you can be?”

he takes his dick out of his pants, quickly putting on a condom, not even giving you much time to think before he’s slamming into your cunt. your eyes widen as your pussy stretches, and geto can only bite his lip as he feels you clench around him.

“you feel so good, y’know that right” he murmurs, forcing himself into you deeper, “so fuckin’ tight.”

he was merciless, gripping his hands on your tits, as he pistons out of you. he could only focus on how your cunt tightens around him with every push. you were pushing yourself down on him, fucking him right back. you didn’t care for his praise, you just wanted to cum.

“‘you’re t-too much, i-it’s too much”

“but you’re taking me so well,” he argues, with a grin. peppering kissing against your neck as he fucks you to a hilt. your hands find their way back into his hair, pulling and tugging at it as you moan out his name.

his dick twitches inside you as you call at his name, you could feel that he was about to cum. his strokes were getting sloppier, and his mouth went from biting to sucking on your neck. you could feel yourself about to climax, clawing at his back, as he continues to hit your spot.

“suguru, i’m about to–”

“cum with me,” he demands, swiftly pulling out of and leaving his cum all over your stomach. you release onto his car seats, your cum spilling out of your pussy, pooling into his car seats.

after coming down off your high, you come to your senses. “this doesn’t change anything.” you remove yourself out of his hold, pushing him off you.

“you really gonna say that after i gave you the best time of your life?”

"'best time of my life?'" you echo, a smirk tugging at your lips as you gather your belongings, "someone's cocky."

“i'm starting to feel you like me that way,” he teases, his words a playful challenge.

you roll your eyes, not willing to engage in his banter any longer. "goodbye, suguru," you reply, opening his car door. "don't return to the club."

“oi princess,” he calls after you, “you left your thong.”

“keep it.” you wink as you step outside of the car, “think of it as a souvenir.”

“why would i need that, when im going to see you again?” you don't respond, shutting the car door with a smile on your face as part of you hoped that he did return.

geto did see you again, practically every day after that. it became a consistent routine, he’d book a private room for a couple hours, you’d fuck, you’d talk and see each other whenever he wanted. he came when he needed you – and he always needed you.

as a stripper, you’ve always had one rule ‘don’t fuck with clients,’ but the moment that geto suguru laid his eyes on you – you were his. there was something about him that made him different from all the other patrons, although they were all snobby rich guys, the way that geto carried himself made you feel like he was worth breaking your rule. or at least that's what you told yourself.

you didn’t just fuck each other – sometimes he just wanted to talk to you, to ask you about your day, to get to know you. and you could tell he was starting to catch feelings that you weren’t prepared to deal with. however, despite him being rich, there was something endearing in knowing that he went out of his way, every day, to pay just to see you. even when you were mean and standoffish.

you always spoke for longer than you expected – longer than he even paid for. geto surprised you, he was actually interested in talking with you. as the minutes turned into an hour, the conversations flowed in unexpected directions. you found yourselves sharing stories, discussing interests, and laughing at each other’s jokes. geto’s charming demeanour and genuine interest gradually chipped away at your initial reservations.

“did you always want to be a stripper?” he asks, you had just finished fucking and he still had an hour left of paid time with you, and he was going to use it.

“do you always pillowtalk?” you retort smartly, evading his question.

“who would’ve thought you’d still be this bitchy after being fucked so good,” he jokes, pulling you into his hold that you quickly ease into, “girl just answer the question.”

“i don’t know,” you sigh, “i needed the money, i loved to dance, so being a stripper was a no brainer to me.”

“do you like working here?”

you shift slightly in his embrace, your fingers idly trace patterns on his chest. "liking it? well, it pays the bills, if that's what you're asking."

his fingers brush against your hair in a soothing gesture. "but is that all? just a means to an end?"

you sigh, a mixture of vulnerability and honesty in your tone. "i mean, it's not like i dreamt of becoming a stripper when I was a kid. but it's a job that's allowed me some financial stability, even if it's temporary."

geto's voice was gentle, his curiosity evident. "temporary for how long?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal. "i don’t know, i haven’t thought that far. i just wanna make money.”

"well, if you ever get tired of dancing, i can always buy the club for you." his response was unexpected, a mixture of humour and absurdity. “i think you’d make a good boss.”

“ha, if you did that i’d know that you’re truly obsessed with me,” you chuckle, his words catching you off guard. “i know you enjoy this place, but that's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"maybe, but you're worth it." he grins, his playful demeanour unwavering. "you're more than what you do here, you know."

a soft, ironic chuckle escapes your lips. "funny, coming from someone who's always here."

his grip on you tightens slightly, his voice holding a trace of seriousness. "perhaps I come here because I want to be around you. not just the dancer."

it was as if his presence had chipped away at the walls you had erected, leaving you exposed to a whirlwind of feelings you hadn't anticipated.his gaze, unwavering and intense, held yours as if searching for a sign—a spark of recognition that you too were experiencing this undeniable pull.

"suguru," you begin, your voice a whisper that barely bridged the distance between you, "this... whatever it is between us, it can't be as simple as you wanting to be around me."

he smiles softly, a gentle curve of his lips that holds both understanding and patience. "you're right, it's not simple. but isn't that what makes it worth exploring?" his words were a delicate melody, an invitation to step beyond the boundaries you had created.

you met his gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and longing. the weight of his presence was undeniable, a force that had drawn you in and left you yearning for more. but your insecurities whispered caution, reminding you of the differences that set you apart.

"suguru," you admit, your voice softer now, "i've never let anyone get this close. it's complicated, and I don't even know where this could lead."

“it doesn’t matter where it will leads,” he says, “what matters is that you like me? right?”

his words hung in the air, a direct question that pierced through the layers of uncertainty and vulnerability that surrounded you. the room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of his question settling like a delicate veil over the intimate space you shared.

your breath caught, and for a moment, time itself seemed to pause. the truth, the raw honesty that had eluded you, stood before you—bold and unyielding. you looked into his eyes, his gaze unwavering and patient, as if he was giving you the space to find your own truth within the question.

your voice, soft and tinged with a mixture of trepidation and longing, finally found its way to the surface. "i..." you pause, the words catching in your throat. but in the depth of his gaze, you found a strange sense of comfort, an assurance that you could be honest without judgement.

"maybe," you admit, your voice a whisper that carries the weight of your emotions. "maybe i do like you, suguru." the admission felt like a release, letting go of the barriers you had constructed to protect yourself.

a slow smile curved his lips, a genuine expression that lit up his features. it was as if your honesty had unlocked a door, allowing both of you to step closer to a truth that had been waiting to surface. he replies with deep content, "maybe is a good start,"

the room felt charged with an energy you couldn't quite define, a tension that simmered beneath the surface. your eyes held his, a silent conversation that spoke volumes—an acknowledgement of the unspoken connection that had grown between you.

as you lay there, cocooned in the aftermath of both physical intimacy and heartfelt conversation, an internal struggle brewed within you. your heart was stirred by the sincerity of geto's words, by the connection that seemed to grow stronger with every interaction. yet, amidst the warmth and comfort, a sense of bittersweet uncertainty gnawed at you.

the boundary you had set, the rule you had vowed to uphold, wavered under the weight of emotions you hadn't anticipated. you were drawn to geto, but a tangle of reservations held you back.

in the embrace of the night, you found yourself torn between the allure of a connection you had come to cherish and the lingering fear of what being with him might entail.

“you’re here early,” you comment, seeing geto in his usual seat. at this point, you were practically excited to see him, happy to go to work knowing that he’d show up.

“i guess i thought i’d change things up a bit,” he mutters his tone of voice off, “we’ve got to make this quick, though” he starts to undo his belt, “i’ve only got an hour till my next meeting.”

“wow no talking today?” you ask amused. geto usually is the one that likes to take his time, he always says he prefers to stimulate your mind before anything else, but today was different.

he gives you a pointed look, not bothering to respond so you continue to say, “an hour?” smirking as you straddle his lap, freeing his dick, “i think that’s more than enough time.”

“new outfit?” he muses, pulling at the straps of the lingerie you were wearing. you nod, focusing on stroking his dick, “red’s your colour, i like it. but i’d rather see it off you.” suddenly, he rips off your bra and forces you up to take off your panties. you bend down to take off your heels, but he pauses you, “keep those on.”

“get my fingers wet for me,” he commands, dragging you back onto his lap. you happily comply, taking in two fingers into your warm, pouty mouth. he caresses your jaw as you greedily nibble on his fingers.

he pulls them out thoroughly coated with your saliva and shoves them into your pussy. you gasp at the contact, and crumble into his side but he forces your head up with his hand pressing a rough kiss to your lips.

“w-whats with you today?” you query, as you see the look on geto’s face – something was off with him. although you couldn’t deny the pleasure you were getting from his current roughness, you were used to a gentler geto.

“nothing,” he dismisses you, slipping in another finger into your soaking pussy. his thumb rubs against your clit as his fingers easily glide in and out of you. you felt like you cum off of his fingers alone, you grind down hard against his fingers aiding yourself in reaching your climax. but just as you were nearing, he swiftly removes his fingers landing a fat smack against your clit, “i know i said i had to make it quick, but i didn’t think you’d be this excited.”

geto swiftly puts on a condom, raises you up slightly before slamming you down on his dick. he smiles as your legs wrap around his back, pleased by the sound of your heels clacking together. you shudder as he immediately fills you, your pussy stretching, taking all of him.

he thrusts into you hard, and you try to meet his pace and fuck him back as hard as he was doing to you – but you were no match for him. you were practically a ragdoll as he hammered into you, your arms flinging around his neck to hold yourself up.

“f-fuck,” you moan, clawing at his back, “im gonna cum.”

“hold it,” he demands, continuing to give you strong, relentless strokes. your head falls into his shoulder in submission, you were already gushing all over him, but he keeps going, hard and fast. he lifts up your head, and presses a soft peck against your lips before saying, “cum.”

geto movements turn sloppy as he finishes into the condom. you release all over his dick, shuddering as you feel your peak surge through you. he presses one more kiss to your neck, before you move off of him.

“are you good?” you finally ask him, as you put back on your outfit, “you seemed a little out of it tonight.”

he shifts on his feet, his restlessness palpable as he watches you. "yeah," he mumbles, looking around the room at everything but you, his fingers fumbling with his belt as if seeking something to anchor himself. "i'm alright."

"you sure?" you persist, a touch of concern pushing you to press further. usually, you wouldn't challenge him this way – because whatever he says goes in the time that he pays for. but the stark contrast to his usual demeanour gnaws at your thoughts. "i just want to make sure that you're okay–"

"didn't I say I was alright," he sneers, a defensive edge entering his tone, "it's like you don't listen or something."

“see, there is definitely something wrong with you,” you snap, screwing your face up at his tone, “since the usual geto that walks up in here knows that he’ll have my heel shoved up his asshole before he can talk to me like that.”

your words hang in the air, the charged tension growing thicker as you each hold your ground. he shifts his weight, his gaze flickering toward you briefly before skittering away. the air seems heavy with unspoken words, a tangible unease settling between you.

"i've actually been wondering how long we're going to be doing this for," he finally says, his voice low, almost as if he's reluctant to voice the thought.

“this?” you question, a confused look appears upon your face as you fold your arms. you knew what he was getting at – you just wanted to hear him say it, “you mean my job.”

his gaze finally lifts to meet yours, a sardonic smile tugging at his lips. "oh, I didn't know it was your job to fuck the customers here. I thought you were just a stripper… not a prostitute."

his words hit like a jolt, a rush of emotion flooding your senses as you absorb their implications. your jaw tightens, a surge of frustration warring with a pang of hurt. "don't be condescending."

he chuckles, the sound a mix of amusement and something else you can't quite place. "why not? you seem to be a pro at it."

“fuck you.”

“y’know, i’ve figured a lot about you in these times we’ve spent together – despite the fact that you don’t talk much,” he starts to say, his grin getting wider with every word, “i’ve worked out that you liked to be chased, you like the fact that I was intrigued enough to make you break your dumb ass rule, you like the fact that even after I managed to break down your pussy walls, I still wanna take your rude ass to dinner.”

his words cut deep, the truth laced with a mocking tone. you glare at him, the mixture of attraction and anger churning within you. he was right in a way – you did like the chase, the thrill of his attention.

"you really have it all figured out, don't you?" you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. his observations stung because they hit too close to the mark. but there was a small part of you that reminded yourself that he was just like the rest of the rich assholes that strolled through the club – and he was proving you right in this very moment.

“well suguru, i’ve worked some things about you.” you sneer, “you’re not the first wealthy lame that has walked into this club demanding more from me than a lap dance and some ego stroking–”

“but i’m the first to get it though aren’t i,” he interrupts, his tone teasing, “what does that say about me?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms defensively. "it says that you're just like the rest of them, thinking you're different, thinking you're special."

his gaze narrows, the spark of something more intense gleaming in his eyes. "oh, I never said I was different. but I am special, darling, and you know it.” you huff defiantly, sitting back down on the couch – this was an argument you couldn’t. because although he was cocky, he was right.

geto joins you, his hand coming gripping your thigh to get your attention, “look i don't want to be doing this with you, all i want is to spend time out with you outside these four walls,” he says as you gnaw on your lip, considering it, “it would be nice to see you with some clothes on for a change.”

he holds your gaze, his fingers tightening slightly on your thigh as if trying to anchor himself in the midst of the storm of emotions you've stirred. his vulnerability is a stark contrast to the confidence he usually exudes, and it catches you off guard. for a moment, you're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting feelings – his words tugging at something deep within you that you're not quite ready to acknowledge.

but then, you remember the rules you've set for yourself, the boundaries you've fought so hard to maintain. no matter how much he may want to blur those lines, you can't afford to give in.

without giving him a direct answer, you shift slightly, his hand sliding off your thigh as you put some distance between you. your gaze flickers away from him, focusing on some distant point in the room as you compose yourself.

"well, hour's over," you finally say, your tone a touch colder than before. "leave the money where you usually do."

his face falls, the vulnerability replaced by a mixture of disappointment and frustration. he opens his mouth, as if he wants to protest or say something more, but the words seem to die on his lips. the atmosphere between you turns tense once again, the unspoken words and desires hanging heavily in the air.

you don't meet his gaze as you move to gather your things, your actions brisk and efficient. you've mastered the art of detachment, of creating a barrier between yourself and the clients who come and go, no matter how they may affect you.

as you head toward the exit, your heart beats a little faster, a mix of regret and longing that you refuse to entertain. this is how it has to be – business, no matter how much your heart might argue otherwise.

behind you, you hear him sigh, a sound heavy with frustration and resignation. the door clicks shut behind you, the echo of the room's tension lingering in the silence.

he never returned after that. days turned into weeks, and still, geto's presence remained absent from the club. while you hadn't expected him to return, a small part of you had held onto a glimmer of hope that he might. but the weeks turned into months, and the emptiness left by his absence lingered.

life settled back into its routine – the dimly lit stage, the rhythmic music, you danced, you entertained, you put on a show. yet, there was an ache within you, a void that refused to be filled.

as time went on, you found yourself replaying memories of his presence in your mind – the teasing glint in his eyes, the genuine concern in his voice, the way his smile could light up a room. the connection you had shared, brief as it was, had left an indelible mark on your heart.

you missed the daily banter, the way he would surprise you with his insights, the simple pleasure of knowing he was there. the club felt different now, as if it had lost a part of its vibrancy. the nights were quieter, the laughter more subdued, and the glamour that once surrounded your performances felt somewhat dimmed.

despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake the longing that had settled within you. you had a taste of something more with him, a glimpse of a world beyond the club's confines. and now, as you danced under the neon lights, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find that connection again.

the longing in your heart grew with each passing day, a constant reminder of what had been and what might have been. yet, even as you missed him, you were grateful for the moments you had shared – moments that had shown you a different side of life, a side you had almost forgotten was possible.

as you stepped into the club again to start your shift, an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach. the club, which was typically alive with the pulsating beat of music and the murmurs of patrons, was eerily quiet. it was as if the very essence of the place had been stripped away, leaving behind an empty void.

confusion crept into your mind as you glanced around, searching for any sign of movement or life. your footsteps echoed in the emptiness, the sound feeling unusually loud against the backdrop of silence. what was going on? had something happened that you weren't aware of?

just as you were about to turn and leave, the sense of unease growing stronger, your eyes land on a figure sitting on the main stage. your heart skipps a beat, a mix of surprise and a rush of emotions flooding over you. it was him – geto. he was here, his presence filling the void that had gripped the club.

he sat there, as if he belonged on that stage, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense as he watches you. the familiar, cocky smirk was ever present on his lips, and despite the confusion that clouds your mind, a warmth spreads through your chest at the sight of him.

as you draw closer, his smirk softens into a genuine smile, a glimmer of something unspoken in his eyes. the air was thick with tension, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty hanging between you. your heart races in your chest, the space between you charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"suguru," you finally breathe his name, your voice a mere whisper in the stillness.

he stands, his movements fluid and confident, as he closes the distance between you. "hey," he greets, his voice carrying a warmth that echoed through the empty club.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, your voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

“let’s just say there’s new management here”

“you bought the club.” you interrogate, “why?”

“i don’t know, im a guy with a lot of money, so i bought a business.” he shrugs blatantly lying, “that’s what guys like me do…”

"you missed me," you conclude, with a grin.

he nods, "I guess I missed you...or whatever," his facade drops immediately. "it's just after you rejected me, i was pissed. all i wanted to do was to show you that i actually cared about you, for you to give me a chance.”

“and buying the club was the most logical way for you to show me that you care?” you argue. “you didn’t have to do that,” emotions swirled within you – a mixture of surprise, hope, and a spark of something you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time. before you could respond, he took a step closer, his fingers gently brushing against yours. it was a simple touch, but it held a promise, a connection that went beyond words.

"why do you always have to be so difficult?” he questions fiercely, “why can’t you just let me show you that i do care about you?”

the weight of his words hung in the air, and as you looked into his eyes, you saw the vulnerability, the sincerity that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. “why do you care?” you retort, almost childishly. you knew that he cared, you knew why he cared – you just had an affinity for making things difficult.

he rolls his eyes at your hard front “if it was anybody else, he would’ve given up a long time ago. but for some reason you were worth it. “because i see you for more than just the standoffish dancer who doesn��t let anyone get to her, im sure you know this by now.” he pulls you closer to him, into a strong hold. “now will you stop fronting and let me have you – all of you?”

you nod with mock reluctance, practically melting in his arms, “but what about my job? I’m not gonna stop being a stripper just because of you.”

“and i wouldn’t even ask you too,” he says quick with reassurance, “besides i find it hot that everyone gets to see you this way but they just can’t have you like i do.” he starts to work your top off your body, unhooking your bra, exposing your tits, “like just imagine, a crowd full of people watching me fuck the shit out of you — wanting you so badly, but not getting to touch.”

“we can’t do this here,” you gasp out as his fingers start to toy with your hard nipples, pinching and twisting them.

“why not?” he smirks, “you’re the boss aren’t you?”

“me, but i thought you bought the club.”

“you’re the one who said if i bought it you’d know that im truly obsessed with you,” he reasons, his lips pressing a kiss under your ear as he whispers, “do you get the picture now?”

“like I said you really d-didn’t have to do that,” you say, “i was the one that fucked things up here. you didn’t have to buy a whole business for get me to tell you that i like you.”

“oh so you do like me,” he comments sarcastically, “who would’ve thought.”

“shut up,” you grumble, swatting at his chest as he laughs, “i am sorry though. i don’t know why i pulled you into my little game, i knew i liked you a long time ago — but I just couldn't bring myself to admitting it. and I'm sorry for that .”

“it’s fine,” he reassures, “i knew dealing with you would be a challenge — granted i didn’t think it would be this hard — but i knew in the end it would be worth it.” his hands lower down your body, shimmying your pants off of you, “so now you gonna show me how sorry you truly are?”

AN: um so this was A LOT my longest fic ever, please lemme know what you thought since I am SOOOO UNSURE ABOU THIS ONE. thank you to my baessss @kazushawty @satoruhour for beta reading (I owe you two my life) also ur boss was pissed asf to find out that the club he owned was bought and given to you when he was the one that basically got you and geto together in the first place. ill make a part two where gojo comes back to the club to see the pretty little stripper who's got all of his besties attention looool jk

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto angst #jjk angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen angst #geto x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you

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thedo0zyslider · 6 months

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I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter 3: Getting To Know You - 7k Words

Fwhip and Jimmy get to know each other more, through a surprisingly insightful talk one night.

A03 Link

Jimmy hums to himself, a thing of comfort, his boots crunching against the Grimlands’ gravely paths. It was a sound he was learning by now, a sound that was becoming familiar to him, just like the sound of muddy boots squelching against the swamp floor already was. The cod didn’t like that he was getting used to that noise, but nothing could be done about it.

Today, it is Gem who walks beside him. Lizzie had not accompanied her younger brother on this particular trip, and the Ocean Queen had had better things to attend to than to bother with all of this. As she herself had rather kindly put it. Jimmy was rather grateful for that, for his mother’s absence especially. And though he loved Lizzie, he did not like being dragged around to all her magic lessons. Fwhip was also yet to show up, so that was an extra plus.

Gem is rattling onto him about something that is surprisingly not her studies, today’s topic seems to be the dragons that are raised at the castle. And the blonde doesnt know much about dragons, other than the Cliff and the Grimlands were very connected to them, for obvious reasons, but he listened to his friend ramble on anyway. His friend, Gem was his friend. He quite liked her, the young wizard was very easy to get along with.

Eventually, as the two noble teenagers leave the outskirts of the town and pass into the main parts of it, the conversation gets a lot more fun for the both of them. Jimmy pipes up after one particular story, comparing some of the dragon's described behaviors to that of a cat. Gem, a cat owner herself, understands what he’s getting at near instantly. Her eyes light up, and they start comparing the Cliff’s wyverns to house cats, and maybe share plenty of stories of their own furry friends in between.

Slowly, the conversation once again turns into something Jimmy is happy to just listen to, as Gem is clearly happy to rant uninterpreted about something she likes for once. The two of them enter the more business focused area of the Grimlands, the one where most of the shops reside, and Jimmy is happy to just listen for once; no need to reply or argue back to make people listen to him. Outings like this are a nice change of pace for both of them, he thinks, and the blonde is sure he’ll be seeking some more out in the future. Though unfortunately, that change of pace will not be long lived, for a certain someone is hanging around the part of the empire. Because of course he is.

Jimmy catches a glimpse of Fwhip after a moment of weaving through the crowd, the future Count leaning against a doorframe. His back is to them, and he seems to be conversing with someone inside one of the nearby shops. The prince cannot see who he is talking to, exactly, but he can see the building his fiance is standing in very well. He recognizes the architecture well, having seen it dotted here and there around the Grimlands. He’d seen it far before he’d ever visited the eastern empire as well. It is the district architecture of salmonfolk, the very type of merfolk that had been exiled from his empire long before. The one fish and their magic that makes his own people so sick. Jimmy was to stop himself from making a face everytime he sees one of them walking around the kingdom.

A ball of spite starts to grow in him. Spite he’d learned to harbor for the salmon over the years, and spite at Fwhip for even daring to talk to one, whether they were his citizens or not. The cod can’t marry into this family, into the kingdom, not if they’re going to let the salmon run wild. Not if they’re going to talk and laugh with them after everything they’ve done to his people. He wonders what Lizzie would say if she saw this. Jimmy also briefly wonders what his mother would say too, then realizes she probably wouldn’t care, as long as the war threat is taken care of and she gets a grandchild out of it, the Ocean Queen couldn't care less of what her son is marrying into.

Gem notices his staring, because of course she does. The wizard stops rambling about whatever she’d changed the topic to, and gives the young cod a playful bump of the shoulder. Jimmy bumps her back, slightly puzzled at the sparkle in his friend’s eyes. She laughs quietly at his face, which has to be rather crushed up by now, and the wizard turns away from him and back towards the salmon owned shop.

“I think he fancies you, ya know.” Gem says, giving a pointed glance at her brother's backside. Jimmy notes the use of fancy , and figures his kingdom’s slang has finally started to rub off on her. Or she’s just using it to feel closer to him or something, an option he doesn’t mind either. Though if she starts saying bloody hell , then they’ll have a real problem on their hands. Especially with an accent.

The cod follows her gaze, his eyes landing on Fwhip’s broad shoulders. He notes how the future Count’s hair is starting to get longer, and soon it will be long enough for a ponytail. Or a manbun. And oh god, Jimmy's going to have to marry someone with a manbun , isn’t he? The blonde watches Fwhip for a few seconds longer, the other not noticing. His tail starts flicking, whoever he’s conversing with clearly getting some sort of rise out of him, and Jimmy finally looks away.

“Do you really think so?” He mutters, hoping it sounds believable, like he actually has any interests in the asshole a few feet away from him. Jimmy has to sell this, he has to. For both their sakes, for his people’s, for his. Lord knows what his mother will do if he doesn’t. Plus, Gem is scarily smart and perceptive, and she knows them both pretty well. So if he can’t sell this to Gem , then he can’t sell this to anyone . Let alone his future people.

Fortunately, he seems to be selling it, for if he wasn’t doing so she would confront him right then in there, in her own way. But Gem does not confront him, the wizard just smiles up at her friend, and Jimmy has never been more pained by a friend’s smile in his life. “Yeah. I think he does.” The half dragon continues, her own tail starting to swish happily. “He talks about you sometimes, more than he talks about anyone else.”

All Jimmy can do in response is nod, for something is choking him. Fwhip talks about him, and it has to be in a good way, based on his sister’s reaction to it. The cod finds quickly what’s choking him is sudden fear. Because what if Fwhip is actually …falling in love with him? What if he actually wants this marriage, and to…kiss each other and all that. What if?

Fwhip must feel them both staring, because after a moment he turns around. The half dragon sees the two of them, clearly controlling his expression once his eyes land on the young cod; presumably unaware of Jimmy’s visit that day. Until just now that is. Fwhip seems to excuse himself, and the cod finally catches a glimpse of who he’d been talking to. The salmonfolk sees him as well, and they make eye contact. The salmon glares, and Jimmy has to hold back a snarl. The shop owner turns, and slams the door behind them.

When he reaches them, Fwhip gives the prince a puzzled look. Gem must have noticed the brief interaction too, but both of the twins thankfully decide to say nothing of it. Jimmy averts his gaze from them, and the shop, and lets Gem do the talking for the two of them. Just for a moment, until the anger starting to build has calmed and he can function normally again.

The wizard pulls her brother into a short conversation, asking about what he had been doing in the shop. A conversation Jimmy also has to tune out, for he wants to hear nothing about that shop full of salmonfolk. He tunes it out by focusing on the crunch of the dirt and gravel under his feet, the three of them starting to backtrack a little. Not even an hour ago he hated this sound, yet now it is the only thing keeping him sane.

The conversation moves on, but Jimmy still stays silent unless he is talked to. The three of them head towards the Grimlands’ manor, since lunchtime is rolling around, stopping here and there to show the cod prince around some more. They do a pretty good job of staying together too, despite the growing crowd as working citizens are let go for their lunch breaks. That is until a certain wizard seems some people she knows form the Crystal Cliff’s Academy, and then she is keen to ditch the two boys in favor of her more magical friends.

“I’ll leave you two alone now~” Gem teases, and bumps Fwhip closer to him as he leaves. Her brother stumbles, and finds himself near chest to chest with the cod prince. Likely his sisters plan the whole time. If this were some cheesy romance novel, the two of them would be blushing. But it isn’t. Instead Fwhip moves away, a frown already starting to form on his features. Jimmy feels his own self mirroring the look, especially as his mind goes back to his earlier wonderings.

The prince found himself over-analyzing everything about the other now, to see if anything was seemingly out of the ordinary. To see if Gem was right, and if Fwhip did indeed like him a bit more than he was letting on. And maybe the cod watches what he himself does as well, to see if maybe he’d been lying to himself this whole time. Both of them being in love would make the whole marriage thing a million times easier than it currently is…

He’d never really thought about it, if he likes boys or not, but now Jimmy was kinda being forced to think about it. He knew he liked girls though, in some way at least, even if he’d never dated a girl; or anyone really. His love life was a little sad, the blonde had to admit.

The cod looks at Fwhip, and wonders if this guy's gonna be the reason he has an awakening. He wonders if he, of all people, is the reason Fwhip himself has had one. For the briefest second, Jimmy wonders if the two of them could...maybe be something one day. Those thoughts are squashed rather quickly, and soured by every single memory of Fwhip he has. None of which are particularly pleasant. He doesn’t like Fwhip, that’s for certain, but who’s to say if the other likes him. Regardless, he can’t imagine them together under any circumstance, and doesn’t really want to.

"Codboy." Fwhip sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and dislike as they began to walk, side by side in the rather busy market place. "Good to see you again."

"Don't call me that." He snapped, suddenly remembering the point of this visit. It was to “get to know” the future Count better, his mother said. Like she said about every recent trip to this godforsaken empire. Jimmy’s starting to think she’s just using it as an excuse to get him out of the house, something he usually wouldn’t complain about. Unless getting him out of the house means sending him to the worst place on earth.

"Make me. We know you won't.” Fwhip keeps walking, as if trying to lose him in the crowd. Jimmy doesn’t dignify that with a response, and keeps following him anyways. Mainly because he has nowhere else to go, other than wherever one of the twins is. Also, he doesn’t want to be lost in what is still a decently unknown empire to him, especially one crawling with salmon .

“Why’re you even here?” Fwhip says with a sigh, once he realizes he cannot lose the cod trailing him. They walk shoulder to shoulder now, being quite the sight to behold. People had been staring before, when Gem was with them, but now it seems to have gotten worse. The blonde has to wonder if it has anything to do with a certain half dragon possibly fancying him, and any sorts of rumors their parents might start to be spreading.

“To ‘get to know you better.’ Whatever that means.” Jimmy responds, shuffling closer, until they’re practically touching. He feels a few stares lingering on his back, some friendly, some not. Fwhip must feel them too, to not pull away from him immediately. Or maybe the crowd is just getting too tight for the half dragon to try and run anymore.

“Haven’t we done that enough already?” He grumbles, reluctantly slipping a hand into the cods. Jimmy feels his breath hitch in surprise, but Fwhip’s hold on him is rough and uncaring, not welcoming and soft like Lizzie’s normally is. He wonders what he would do if it was.

Jimmy’s next response is exasperated, wincing as the hold on his hand tightens unpleasantly. “Tell that to our mums, not me.” Fwhip weaves through the crowded main roads, and manages to duck into a quieter side street. Which is extra good, because the cod had caught a glance of the guards trailing them in the crowd. The two guards he and Gem had successfully ditched by the river about two hours ago, feeling like they couldn’t talk openly while being supervised. There was also a third one wading through the mass of people, presumably ditched by Fwhip, earlier. He figures as long as the three of them get back inside the manor safe, then there won’t be much to grumble about.

Fwhip holds back another sigh, his home now becoming visible in the distance. “Whatever.” He says, letting go of Jimmy’s. The cod tries not to long for the contact too much. “Let’s just get inside, and maybe this visit will go faster?” The half dragon walks forwards without him, leaving the other boy bounding to catch up again. He can be surprisingly fast when he wants to be.

“Yeah, maybe.” Jimmy agrees, and starts to wonder about a lot of things, since Fwhip seems determined to stay silent for the rest of the walk. He wonders when these visits will let up, and he can finally have some more free time back, instead of spending most of it with that asshole in front of him. He wonders how Gem is going to tease the supposed love birds when they get back. He wonders about both of their true feelings, and the hand hold, and what that had meant. The prince wonders why he wasn’t just ditched in the crowd, other than Fwhip stopping himself from getting in trouble over it.

The cod keeps wondering, and knows a lot of those questions can’t stay unanswered for long, lest the possibilities overwhelm him and burst through at the seams.

_________________________

Fwhip sighs, his tail thumping against the floor unhappily. It is the same day, and Jimmy has not left yet. He was supposed to leave hours ago, but no one from the Ocean Empire had come to get him. The blonde had muttered something under his breath, something Fwhip thinks he wasn’t meant to hear. Something about the Queen forgetting him, either on accident or on purpose, and how she won’t remember until Lizzie pipes up. Whenever that is.

Regardless, it is getting far too late in the evening to travel home safely, the risk of mobs having become too great. And sadly, the future Count couldn't just throw this idiot out into the woods to fend for himself. No, that would start a war or something. So instead Gem, before retreating to her own quarters for the evening, had notified the guards. A guest bedroom was currently being readied, and dinner would be brought up soon.

Another day when dinner is brought up, because there will be no eating at the table tonight. The manor staff knows about Jimmy’s presence, but he’s not sure his parents even do. Well, his parent , his father, the only one still here. Gem was probably supposed to go back to the Cliff’s with their mother, but she had been forgotten as well. Which is why she was still here in the first place.

Jimmy doesn’t seem to mind, or care. The half dragon doesn’t know if he's even noticed the tense air that's been hanging around since before lunchtime. The cod’s own familial matters seem to be taking up his mind, which is better than him inquiring about the ginger’s own any day. And he’s had time, considering they’ve been in this room for hours upon hours now.

Fwhip holds back a sigh, and hides his face in his hands. He hates being stuck in a room like this, but it’s the best choice. It’s also so weird for him, especially when Gem visits. Normally, when she is allowed time to come over, she’s busying herself in the manor’s library. Her favorite library, his sisters told him that so many times. Told him that the books are always somehow better than what the Cliffs have, and maybe that's because Fwhip himself sneaks in books he knows she hasn’t read before or whatever. And he’s usually in there with her, pestering her or tinkering on one of his smaller inventions.

But today was a bad day, so the twins, plus Jimmy, and probably a fair amount of the staff as well, are huddled up in their rooms. Because it’s safer. Because it’s better than facing whatever shit went on between the Count and the Head Wizard, and it being taken out on them or the staff. It’s just…better this way, helps Fwhip keep his sanity a little longer.

He should've gone to the forge when he has the chance. Or the farms. Maybe he could've hung out there all night instead. Maybe he could've distracted himself by doing things he liked, instead of moping in a room with his least favorite person behind him.

Jimmy hasn’t asked why they’ve been in here, why Fwhip seems reluctant to let him go even across the hall into Gem’s bedroom, something they would both greatly prefer. He has a feeling, if the cod did ask, he would understand whatever vague answer he was given. His mom just seems….like that type of parent, in her own way of course.

For the second time that day, the future Count can feel someone staring at him. So reluctantly, he removes his face from his hands, and braces himself for whatever look his poor excuse of a fiance is currently giving him.

The cod sits on his bed, legs dangling off the side. Fwhip had sat down in his desk chair, a futile and failed attempt to try and sketch something, to be somewhat productive that day. He wasn’t very fond of Jimmy being in here, but it was too late, nothing could be done about that, and the prince could certainly sense how he was feeling. The air was heavy with tensions between the two, so he was almost glad when the cod broke the silence.

“Bad day at home?” Jimmy asks, surprising Fwhip at how empathetic he sounds. The cod had picked up on everything then, he was just being polite about it. He doesn't know if he should be grateful or annoyed at this guy being nice to him right now.

“Yeah…bad day.” He mumbles, turning his chair to fully face the other. Jimmy pulls his legs onto the bed, and crosses them, getting into a more comfortable position. Though the look on his face still remains decently troubled. Fwhip keeps one hand on his desk, so he could fidget with whatever he finds in the mess atop of it.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” The blonde says, his brown eyes seeming to follow the other’s every moment. Like a cat or something. It’s unsettling and more than a little weird to him, so Fwhip isn’t too fond of when he does that.

“I knew you’d say that.” The half dragon puffs, keeping his tail from flicking in slight annoyance. If they're gonna be stuck in here for a little while they need to…. not fight for once. As challenging as that sounds.

“Really?” Jimmy’s tone is curious, yet also cautious as well. He watches the half dragon carefully, with those stupid cat eyes, and he tries not to squirm under the cod's gaze.

Fwhip shrugs, his gaze darting to the nearest wall. Maybe he should send this guy to Gem’s room anyway, if he's going to be all stiff and awkward the whole conversation. “Your mom just seems like the type.”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Jimmy seems to hold back a laugh. One that sounds strangled and broken. He crosses his arms over his chest for a small moment, clearly something done out of habit, before quickly moving them back to his sides. Fwhip cannot help but wonder what goes on in that ocean.

“Same to you.” After that, the two of them fall into silence. Until one of them decides to break it again. The future Count is the one to do so this time, but only after several more agonizing minutes of tense silence. It could have been five minutes of half an hour, neither of them would know. He hopes the guest bedroom is ready soon, for his sanity.

“You got taller.” Fwhip notes, properly looking at Jimmy for the first time all day. For the first time in a while, actually. He tries not to look at people he hates much, and the cod is no expectation to that rule. Future husband or not.

“I've been growing, yes.” The prince says, meeting his eyes. It's the first time they've done that today as well, looking each other in the eyes that is. It's something he thinks they both try to avoid doing, lest either of them see something they don't like in their fiance's gaze.

“How much taller are you gonna get?” Fwhip asks, able to tell how tall the blonde is, even when he's sitting down. Before, Jimmy had been significantly shorter than him, only going up to the half dragon's chest. Now, nearly two years later, he is an inch or two taller than the future Count; who is getting close to six feet tall at this point.

“Eight feet, at least. Maybe seven.” The cod shrugs, surprising the other at how nonchalant he is about it. But then again, being freakishly tall seems to be normal for his species.

“Great.” The half dragon grumbles, trying to imagine that. He can't really, seeing as the only other merfolk he sees regularly are Lizzie and the Ocean Queen, who still towers over her children by quite a good amount.

“Don't worry, Lizzie will be much taller.” Jimmy adds, like that's any better. So they're both gonna be stupidly tall. Not that has much problem with Lizzie but, well, her brother is clearly a different story. If he were in a better mood, the half dragon's sure the prince would be gloating over his height right now.

There is silence. Again. They better not do this after every conversation, this lapse into awkward silence until someone tries to fill it again. Because this sucks and makes everything a million times worse than they currently are. Yet still they sit there for a few minutes, Fwhip not knowing what to say despite the silence being crushing. He turns away, assuming nothing more will come of that fleeting interaction. Which is a fairly wrong assumption, with hindsight.

“Fwhip, can I ask you something?” Jimmy speaks again, hesitantly filling the quietness. The half dragon turns to look at him again, already feeling uneasy about where this is going. Absent-mindedly, he starts fiddling with an old pen on his desk, the action familiar and maybe slightly calming.

“What?” Fwhip allows him to ask whatever it is, but doing so just hesitantly as the other had asked. He feels like it's going to be quite the earth shattering question, whatever it is.

Jimmy takes a breath, like he's gaining confidence, and then gets it over with. “Do you…erm, like me?” “No.” He faces Jimmy fully again, his head whipping around. The ginger can only imagine the look, the alarm, on his face at the question. “Do you-”

“I don’t, don’t worry. It’s just…..” Jimmy trails off for a second, biting his lip again out of anxiety. “Well Gem seems to think you do, says you talk about me.”

Fwhip is silent for a minute, fingers gripping on the pen tighter. He doesn't know where his sister got the idea, that he thinks anything good about this guy, but it's not…the worst thing in the world. “Good. We’re selling it.” He mutters, looking away from the cod.

“I don’t want to sell this. I don’t want you.” Jimmy says harshly, his fingers curling around the bedsheets he sits on. He doesn't look at the ginger when he speaks, and won't for the next few minutes. “I know, believe me, I know.” Fwhip holds back a sigh, and runs a hand through his hair. He hasn't wanted a lot of things in his life, too many to count probably, but this has managed to top the list. He doesn't want any of this, this marriage, whatever agreement their parents had set up, he doesn't want anything, and especially not Jimmy.

“Well that’s one thing we have in common. We both don’t want this.” The prince says, that cat-like gaze boring into Fwhip again. Like he’s being studied, watched and inspected for something, something he doesn't know. He hates when the cod does that.

“Yeah. one thing.” The half dragon grumbles, feeling his earlier bad mood return. Or increase tenfold. He has no idea if it had actually left or not, and didn’t care too much to go and find out. Jimmy was around, so his mood was bound to be rather low no matter what.

“Oh shut it.” He snapped, and the silence threatened to resume again. It was back for what had to be the third or fourth time that evening, and it was threatening to press down on each boy like a heavy weight once more. Until Jimmy broke it, for the third time in a row, because he was so damn determined to be chatty. Really, Fwhip would prefer if he was gone and he could mope around in silence, but when was the world ever that nice to him?

“Can we make a truce? At least until we’re married?” The cod sighs. Looking at him again. But in the normal, no cat like and no creepy way. The half dragon swears this guy is straight from a horror movie sometimes, with the way he acts.

“A truce?” Fwhip asks, getting a little curious despite himself. What might a truce between two horrible assholes possibly entails, he has to wonder… “To be civil with each other, so this all a little more bearable.” Jimmy explains, his tail curling around himself. Like he needs comfort or something. “And then when we get married, we can act like we’re so busy at home that we never have time to see each other.” The cod sounds like he needs this truce, needs one less person giving him a hard time. And honestly, Fwhip could do with that as well. He already has enough on his plate, and mindlessly beefing with some dumb fish guy every week or so isn’t helping it. It’ll only make it worse, once the visits get more frequent and the marriage gets closer, and they both need to be sane enough to keep lying when that comes around.

“That sounds…great actually. The one good idea you’ve ever had.” He admits, giving an approving nod. The only approval he’s ever given the codfolk, and the only shimmer of it he’ll probably get too. And Jimmy knows it, by the way he looks mildly surprised. “What did we just agree on?” The cod scolds, once his surprise has passed. Because of course Fwhip has praised and insulted Jimmy in the same sentence, no one else was around to do so. That was part of his job, after all.

“Sorry, reflex.” Is the rather lame apology that slips out. The only one he cares to give, the one with the smallest amount of effort put in. Because the prince will get nothing but his bare minimum, and always will, Fwhip had made that promise to himself the first day they’d meet.

Jimmy gives an annoyed snort, before realization seemed to smack him quick and hard in the face. “Oh cod, I just agreed with you on something.” He groaned, burying his head in his hands momentarily. The usage of cod instead of god did not escape the ginger’s notice, or his annoyance, like it did everytime the blonde said it.

“New thing for both of us, isn’t it?” Fwhip muttered, taking a moment to process that himself. That was a very new thing. One of those new things you thought would never happen in fact, it was that new and unexpected for the both of them.

“Well, there's a first time for everything, as they say.” Jimmy removes his face from his hands with a shrug, placing them back on the bed beside him. A calmness seems to be unfolding between them, and the earlier tension feels like it's vanishing: now that they’ve moved past all the hard questions that is.

Fwhip hesitates for a second, then segways the conversation into the next phase. This had been lingering on his mind for a while, the smallest amount of guilt eating away at him. The brief thought of their first meeting had brought it back, and it felt like there would be no other time to say what the half dragon needed too. Tonight's vulnerability between them was only temporary, after all, and business would resume as usual the next time they were to meet. “Speaking of new things, I do wanna say sorry for attacking you when we first met. I wasn’t doing good at the time, and I know that was uncalled for.”

“....Apology accepted.” Jimmy was more than a little stunned, but nodded his head. He was looking at Fwhip weirdly again, but not like a calculating cat, more like he had two heads. Honestly, the half dragon wouldn’t be surprised if he’d truly sprouted another one, with how the evening seemed to be going now. “At least you have the guts to admit it.”

“I’m not a coward.” Fwhip growls, suddenly defensive, another reflex. The tension returns just a bit, and this time it won’t dissipate. Not even with the easygoing attitude the cod prince seems determined to keep for now.

“Fair point.” Jimmy mutters, and returns to their original point once more. The point that they were still doing a horrible job at remembering, though doing so would probably take some time. “So, truce? For now?”

“Yeah, for now.” Fwhip agrees, scooting the chair closer so he can reach out a hand. The cod leans forward, seemingly holding back a smile as he reaches out to shake it. “Then I can explode you all I want once we’re married.”

“Can’t wait for that.” Jimmy huffs, both of them returning to their original positions. And a safe, comfortable distance apart from each other. It is where they will remain for the rest of the night, the handshake being a temporary and one time break in that.

“Hphm, good.” The future Count can’t believe it, but he actually has to hold back a smile. A genuine one. It’s not anything the prince did, no, not at all. Couldn’t possibly be. It was probably just the idea of getting to actually blow something up that made him so giddy. Especially when that thing was the stupid codboy.

The next topic breaks that earlier calmness, a calmness that was truly never going to last. Not with the two of them. This topic seems to be something far more serious, indicated by the way Jimmy’s expression turns troubled once again, and that cat-like observation returns. “I saw you with the salmon, earlier today”

“And?” Fwhip asks, back on the defensive in an instant. The salmon in town are friendly, perfectly fine citizens. He would even go as far to say some are his friends, or at least friends of the family. Whatever problem the cod has with them, the ginger is likely not going to stand for it. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Yeah. To me.” The blonde’s response is curt and short, frustratingly so, even if the topic seems to be a sensitive one to him. For whatever dumb and probably incorrect reason it was so.

“Why?” Fwhip prompts again, and lets his wings and tail twitch with impatience. The cod’s gaze flicks to it, and he seems to hold back a sigh. What he starts to explain is far too long and windy, even in the first sentence. Stuff the half dragon is not in the mood for, and something they also probably don’t have time for. Thankfully.

“Well…the different kinds of merfolk have always had problems with each other-”

“I don't want a history lesson. Get to the point.” Fwhip cuts him off, tail lashing again. Jimmy tries not to glare at the future Count, and goes back to talking. The half dragon wonders if he has an off button anywhere on him, for it would save him a lot of headaches and lost time spent listening to stuff he doesn;t really want to hear. Like this history lesson he’s being given.

“Well, long story short, the salmon and codfolk have never gotten along. Ever.” Thankfully, the history lesson has been shortened to a summary, Jimmy’s voice somber as he tells it. “And then one of them killed my dad, so they got exiled.”

“Oh….” There is momentary sympathy in Fwhip’s tone, and he is about to apologize for the prince’s loss. But then his brain processes the rest of it, and he is quick to catch onto the rather unfortunate aftermath of the situation; for the salmonfolk at least. “Wait a minute, you exiled a whole race because of what one of them did?”

“Well, it was a mystery. It could've been one, it could've been multiple.” Jimmy shrugs, like the whole thing isn’t as big of a deal as it truly was. Which he was probably taught to think, if anything, and knowing how the Ocean Queen tended to be ninety nine percent of the time. Which was horrible and controlling and genuinely just not pleasant to be around unless she really really liked you. “It didn't matter, mum was gonna exile ‘em no matter who did what.”

“She likes doing that. Getting rid of the people who don't agree with hers.” Fwhip notes with a dissatisfied snort. Welp, this had gone exactly as he thought it would, in the end. He has sided with his salmon friends, and still disliked the cod just as much as he did earlier. Nothing Jimmy said was ever going to change that fact, he was afraid.

“Yeah. The cod are just getting a better hand, I guess.” The prince says, sounding thoughtful. As if whatever was happening to them was okay. And it probably wasn’t, something Fwhip could admit even despite his dislike for the people.

Coruisty and need to learn getting the best of him, the half dragon pops another question. A genuine one. It’s supposed to clear up the marriage arrangement, is what he tells himself, since the cod seemed to understand it all better than he did. “What are the cod even getting anyways?”

“Well, they're gonna get an empire. In a year or so I'm going to be made the Codfather, and I'm gonna help my people start an empire in the swamp.” Jimmy tells him things he already knew sadly, but it is still good to get some extra clarification on it he supposes. “The marriage is just extra insurance. So the Ocean can't be dragged into a war between the cod and the salmon, basically. Since you guys house so many of them.”

“The Queen doesn't want to deal with the people she got rid of, basically.” Fwhip notes. A very fair assumption, based on all that knew information he’d just been told.

“Yeah.” Jimmy huffs, his tail flicking in what seems to be contemplating. The ginger can’t possibly guess what such an airhead would have to contemplate, but whatever.

“Why does she even hate the cod anyways?” Fwhip asks his last question, hoping it will satisfy any confusion he’d previously had about their arrangement, And surprisingly, but also thankfully, the answer he gets does just that, and he has a better understanding of it than he ever had before. Also surprisingly, since his information is coming from Jimmy of all people.But he is also one of maybe five people with knowledge of all this, so maybe Fwhip should not be so surprised.

“Cultural differences mostly, ones that a lot of people won't try to understand. “The cod don't like all the palaces and fancy stuff, and prefer farming and rural activities. Different religions and stuff too” Jimmy explains, and that is the most he does. Probably because Fwhip had said he didn’t want a history lesson, which he was starting to regret. The Ocean Empire’s history was surprisingly interesting, but he was sure he could just ask Lizzie later, counting on the princess to be a bit more studied than her brother. And also way less annoying to be around, even if she was still a fish.

“And what would you inherit normally? Without this deal?” The future Count inquires, out of nothing but that lingering curiosity. Curse him and his stupid brain that likes learning and knowing things.

“Nothing really. The Ocean Empire has Queens, not Kings. And the oldest daughter is always the Queen.” Jimmy hums, his thoughts likely flying back to his sister, and all the stuff she gets to have. His sister who’s role reminds Fwhip very much of his own siblings. “I wouldn't get much, besides maybe a bit more say in politics…even if I was a girl.”

“And what are you getting out of all this?” The cod returns the question, out of what is probably nothing but the fading courtesy between them. And maybe some shared curiosityas well, buried somewhere deep in his tone.

“Well, I was already going to become Count of the Grimlands.” He shrugs, having started to fiddle with the pens on his desk again. It’s a good distraction really, keeps him grounded and in the moment more often than not. “So mostly just a husband, and not paying for a war I guess.”

“Huh.” Is all the cod responds with, something short and thoughtful. But Fwip is not quite done with all this marriage talk. Not just yet, but he will be soon, after this one last little thing.

“I thought it was a bit weird...that it's a same-sex marriage.” The half dragons mentions, and it is truly something that had crossed his mind. But he had noticed how some of the adults acted around and referred to Jimmy. So this was a little bit of a test, to see if what he was thinking was indeed correct. Even it could be a bit upsetting, which he would make sure to say sorry for later. If he was right, that is. “They traditionally just arrange straight ones…”

Jimmy stiffens at that, and his fingers tighten around the bedsheets once again. Fwhip pretends not to take notice of it. “Yeah, yeah. A bit weird.” Well, the observations he wanted to do are done, as well as the conversation. Mainly because the cod looks too troubled to speak again, not that the future count particularly cares too much about whatever they’d been talking about before. Minus all the marriage stuff, of course.

There is a quiet knock on the door, one Fwhip knows to be one of the manor staff, thankfully. He yells softly to come in, and a well dressed man with slicked back hair slinks his way into the bedroom. “The prince's guest room is ready, sir.” The man says with a respectful bow, and a glance between both of the young royals.

Fwhip nods, feeling his tail flick against the floor idly. “Thanks. And drop the sir.”

“Right.” The staff member nods in response, before giving Jimmy an expectant look. But he does not wait for the young cod, and steps out of the room. He is allowing the two to finish whatever business they have before the Ocean Prince is whisked away for the night, and luckily for the man, they don’t have any business left. The surprisingly level and insightful conversion between them is over, and it is back to business as usual. Just like the half dragon predicted it would be.

“Well, go on.” Fwhip huffs after a minute, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. There is someone else around, after all. Jimmy has stood from the bed, and is halfway too the door, but has stopped for some reason. A stupid reason too, probably, knowing him and all the stupid things he does.

“Right, um.” Jimmy looks like he wants to say something, but is stopping himself. He bites his lip again, and fixes a troubled look on the propped open door. The door he is meant to be leaving out of right this second.

“What?” The half dragon asks, keeping the bite out of his voice vest he can. Jimmy still says nothing. Not verbally at least, but his uneasy body language is saying more than enough right now.

The cod crosses his arms over his chest for the second time, like he’s hiding something. It’s a gesture he does decently often, Fwhip finds, and can’t help but be curious about it. It’s….a very specific thing to do, and combined with how some people talk about Jimmy, the ginger has a few guesses. But that’s not any of his business, not unless the other chooses to make it his. If his guess is right, anyways.

“....Nothing. Nevermind.” Is what the blonde finally says, his back now fully towards the future Count. He takes a few more steps to the door, seemingly eager to finally get out of the room. “I'll tell you another day.”

“I hope you're gone by morning.” Fwhip huffs in response, wondering what the cod has to tell him. He's not even sure if he cares enough to hear it, whatever it is. Unless it will affect the marriage, then he cares very much about it.

“I do too.” Jimmy says back, and then he opens the door. Someone, Fwhip thinks it is the same person who made the prince's room, goes to escort him to it. The door is shut behind them with a sad clicking sound, leaving the half dragon alone for the first time all day.

He turns back to his desk, and fiddles with a pen again. He's got nothing to do really, but think and wonder about what the hell that conversation was. And also hope that Jimmy will truly be gone by morning, for both of their sakes. Even if his home is no better than this one, he hopes the cod is long gone when he next wakes.

#ron.fic #ron.writing #ily (im not supossed too)#fwhip #jimmy solidarity #fwhimmy #empires smp #empiresshipping

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lilac-vapor · 11 months

Text

mignonette.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Ominis/OFC

A/N: Find me on Ao3 under Bounteous

Read the first part here

Anne’s cottage is cozy for nights like tonight when the wind is howling and the rain is pattering against the windows and the sea is especially violent just down the path a bit. Ominis would have been content to lay amongst his pillows and blankets, listening to the storm in juxtaposition to the one constantly unraveling inside his head. However, Anne and Hattie, in tantalizing, radiant moods, had two glasses of Elderflower wine emptied before they’d dragged him from his brooding.

“Have a glass, Ominis! Just one! It’s simply delightful!”

“Or two, or three, or as many as it takes to get you drunk. We could all use a moment of revelry.”

So he’s comandeered the patchwork armchair by the fireplace with a glass of his own held delicately between thin fingers. Meanwhile, Anne has taken residence upon the sofa, sipping occasionally from the bottle itself while Hattie has claimed her spot on the floor beside Ominis’ feet. She’s clearly drunk far too much, otherwise she wouldn’t have her arm looped around his calf and her head leant against his thigh. Or maybe she would sober. Ominis can’t tell these days.

“Miss Monroe,” Ominis speaks, simultaneously flustered and amused, “might I ask why you are caressing my knee like so?”

Hattie—the ‘Miss Monroe’ in question—sighs dreamily, if drunkenly, “It’s a good knee.” She pats it as if to further convey her bizarre statement.

“I’m sure you’ll find him to have other good body parts as well.”

“Anne Sallow!” Ominis admonishes, blushing from head to toe. “I am taking that bottle away from you.” It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep hold of his disposition so far, not to mention his own wine.

Anne had always been the worst of the three of them. A deadly combination of Sebastian’s humor, temperament, and insatiable curiosity and Ominis’ wit, cunning, and selective apathy. Basically—Sebastian’s stupid, unforgiving mouth and Ominis’ decorum to use it like her wand. She could charm her way out of any situation, but she was cautious and crafty enough not to have to.

These days, she can hardly manage a simple stroll without doubling over in a fit of pain.

Hattie giggles and Anne chuckles, knowing her torment of Ominis has only just begun. He sighs, shaking his head at the two drunkards he shares a cottage with. It’s hardly appropriate, besides, lounging about with two unwed women in such close confines. Not that Ominis himself has ever truly cared about decency. That is to say, not any decency that matters in polite society. He remembers Hattie once admitting her muggle parents would be absolutely appalled.

“No, but Anne is right. Your hands are quite good too.”

Hattie has hold of the one not gripping the stem of Ominis’ glass, coveting it as if it’s a gem to behold. Her cheek, warm and flushed, is soft beneath his fingertips and he desperately wishes to trace her delicate smile with the pad of his thumb. Instead, it dips back and forth in the divot that is her dimple. He wonders if it’s symmetrical, but of course he shan’t overstep such boundaries.

“My hands?” Ominis wonders aloud, the inflection of his voice peculiar to Anne alone. “What could possibly be special about my hands? Other than the softness of someone who’s hardly worked a day in their life.”

“Oh, but Ominis,” Hattie practically sighs, “hands are wonderful! Every single one!” She stands, her bare toes stepping over Ominis’ clothed ones, and pulls him up out of his spot so fast he’s forced to gulp down the last of his drink. “They can sculpt the finest of marble statues or paint the faintest of brushstrokes. They can read and speak and feel.” With their hands still clasped tightly together, she leads him in a twirl about the living room. “They can lead a woman in a dance and dip her ever so gracefully.” It’s not at all graceful how she trusts him to suddenly keep her drunken weight from dropping to the floor. “Or play the intricacies of modern music!”

Ominis is feeling far too much. Drunk and on the precipice of commiting the most scandalous of acts. His head is certainly in a tizzy and he’s only had one glass to Hattie’s three. He must do something before he wholly embarrasses himself.

“I can play the piano.”

Oh. He hadn’t realized how close they were. His words were practically whispered into her lips

Hattie gasps excitedly, positively oblivious to Ominis’ wilting propriety. “You must show me!”

“Yes, Ominis, you must show her exactly what those hands can do.” He turns to glare at Anne, hoping the scowl is enough to deter her from more torture. He surmises it won’t be. “Don’t give me that look. I’m helping,” she says and he can feel the way her smirk curls around those words like a vice.

Ominis pries himself from Hattie’s grip as she tips more and more forward into him, then asks,”How am I to show you? We’ve no piano here.”

Hattie gasps, pulling away from him, her feet bounding across the floorboards. “Just a moment!” she shouts, which is preceded nearly immediately by a raucous discordance of banging and clanging and a soft ‘ow’ thrown in for good measure.

“You know,” Anne starts, clicking her nails against her glass, “if you don’t make a move, Hattie never will. She’s too kind for that.”

Ominis sighs, defeated and bone-weary because he is the way he grew up and it’s evident in every facet of his life. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“I think she might have said the exact same thing to me once.”

Before he can respond, Hattie comes bounding back into the room, places something onto the floor, and directs him to step back. She doesn’t state any incantation, but he can hear the slight whoosh of her wand movement, can feel the crackle of magic in the air as this small-something transforms into a big-something.

“Did you just transfigure me a piano?”

Hattie claps, satisfied with her work. “Yes! I’d found this old piano bench at a trinkets shop one day. I’d been using it as yet another surface on which to display my potions and what-not. But now it’s a piano… for the time being.”

“Well, go on, Omins,” Anne goads from her perch amongst the couch pillows, “play us something nice.”

Ominis’ parents would be positively livid if they discovered him to be playing piano with the likes of Anne Sallow and Hattie Monroe; a poor, sickly orphan and a muggle-born. How absolutely dare he?

He gingerly sits down atop the worn bench, right foot resting beside the pedals and fingers flexing of their own accord. Hattie shuffles in next to him, patient and pliant, her body warm and comforting in a way he didn’t realize he needed in this moment. Fingertips skim from left to right, just barely brushing the keys to familiarize himself with this foreign instrument.

“We had a grand piano in our ballroom enchanted to play by itself,” he says, pale eyelids drooping wistfully at the onslaught of memories. “I was simply curious at first. Mother forbade me from touching it; said it was expensive and that only muggles needed to hire musicians. That there was no use in me learning something so arbitrary, so ‘primitive’.” He lets his middle finger press down, the sound keening and thrumming through the cottage, his bones. “Of course, that only made me want to learn it more.”

They could torture him all they wanted, but he found respite and they couldn’t take that away from him no matter how hard they tried.

“You can’t read sheet music, though, can you?” Hattie asks, whispering as though she’s sitting amongst the audience to witness magic in its purest form. Muggles like to call it art.

Omins shakes his head, spine straightening and hands finding their place. “No. I don’t know any popular music. Everything I can play is simply notes I’ve found pleasing to my own ears and thus memorized.”

It makes him almost emotional. He hasn’t played in years and yet it’s so terribly easy to fall back into such a peaceful headspace. No noise, no thoughts, no feelings that make him want to bash his skull in on the worst of nights when he can’t sleep but he can’t wake and he’s fighting in limbo against some unknowing force.

Subconsciously, he wonders if the melody is as powerful to them as it is inside his heart. If it conveys how imperfect this moment is—that he could have been better prepared, that he’s riding a high of alcohol and serotonin, that Hattie next to him makes his knuckles shake oh-so-subtely.

When he finishes, he frowns. A thumb that is not his wipes away a stray tear, smoothing back his hair behind his ear as it disappears. He turns to follow it, hoping to catch it before it’s gone forever.

“Thank you,” Hattie says softly, and if only Ominis could see the way her hand hovers momentarily before dropping back down to her lap, “that was lovely.”

Anne watches, nursing her bottle still, in a nostalgic reverie. They remind her of her parents. With her feet thrown up and over the back of the sofa, the world nearly upside down in her vision, she smiles sadly at the thought that she probably won’t be there to witness their vows of devotion.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #anne sallow #omins gaunt x original female character

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logarhythm-bees · 9 months

Text

To Unearth and Back Again; ⛅Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty | Table of Contents | Chapter Twenty Two

See ronithesnail's absolutely wonderful art for this story!

Find light in the beautiful sea, I choose to be happy You and I, you and I, we're like diamonds in the sky You're a shooting star I see, a vision of ecstasy When you hold me, I'm alive, we're like diamonds in the sky

-Diamonds, Rihanna

The cave mouth was big, even bigger up close. The river ran through it at one side, with another waterfall flowing into it from above the cave, creating a beautiful scene almost out of a magazine. The cave walls were striped with different layers of sedimentary rock. As they walked through the cave, the river ran off through a cave they could not follow it through, a small crack in the wall, impossible for any of them to fit in.

No matter, the cave kept leaning them forward, so they followed it, the area becoming littered with stalagmites and stalactites as they progressed.

Though the cave became darker, there being a lack of holes in the ceiling to let the sunlight in, it never became impossible to navigate. As they got further into the cave, gemstones appeared more and more in the rocks, shining and making the caves look impeccably fantastical.

It’s beautiful, magical even.

That is, until the cave splits.

“Not again,” Virgil groans, flopping to the ground and rolling over. “I thought we were done with the whole fork-in-the-road thing. It’s going to be way harder to find out who has the right path is a cave than in a forest, too.”

“I think I might have a solution that can allow us to remain together. Do you remember what we learned in the forest, Patton?” Logan asks

“That staying together and listening is an important part of not getting lost?” Patton smiled.

Logan chucked. “Yes, I suppose. But what else?”

“That water that flows downhill is flowing from somewhere uphill, and you can follow it to get unlost!” Patton supplied, though his face fell a moment later. “But…I don’t hear any water in here. How do we get out?”

“We can employ a similar strategy.” Logan gestured to one of the gemstones embedded in the walls of the cave. “We can see down here, yes? Even though we don’t have any sort of night vision abilities?”

“Sure, but…” Patton started. Logan pointed to the gemstone again. Patton’s eyes widened and he made a little ‘oh!’ sound.

“The gemstones are reflecting the sunlight to us!” Patton realized. “We can follow the path of the light to find our way out!”

“Yes!” Logan replied. “Much like the water, we can use the reflection of the sunlight as a guide.”

“That’s great!” Thomas smiled.

Almost on cue, a beam of light bounced off of a gemstone in one of the cave. “It’s warm,” Patton commented, putting his hand in the light. “This must be the way out!”

He kept his hand in the light as he guided them forward. The gemstones sparkled when he got closer, making Patton laugh.

They came upon more splits in the cave, but Patton hardly slowed, following the path of the light. With every gemstone he approached, he pressed his hand to it, seeing if it resonated with any warmth. He treated each of them like treasure, though they were stuck in the walls and they had no means of collecting them, he came away from every one of the gems more joyous.

“Isn’t it lovely?” He asked.

“It is indeed, Patton,” Logan said, following right behind him. “You’re very clever, you know that?”

Patton blushed and smiled at him. “Aaw! You know you’re the cleverest though, right Lo?”

“It is not a competition,” Logan replied. “We are all clever in our own ways.”

Patton nodded, eyes flitting to Roman and Virgil for just a second. “We certainly are.”

The light became brighter and brighter as they came further into the cave–or perhaps, out at this point.

“Shine bright like a diamond,” Patton hummed as the cave became almost fully illuminated. In the outcut in the rock in front of them, Roman could see a bright circle at the other edge, almost blinding after the din of the cave.

“There’s the way out!” Roman cheered. He rushed ahead, almost tripping over his feet, and then he actually did trip on a pebble in front of him. He stumbled, kicking the rock before realizing it was a blessing in disguise. He hadn’t seen it before, but now there was in front of him a steep slope, leading down to a deep curve in the cave. It was almost like a bowl, surrounded by a ledge. Roman had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was going to happen in this cavern, it was not going to be fun.

The exit sat in front of them, taunting from the many meters away it was at the end of the cavern. It beamed a bright light at them, almost directed right into the cave they’d come from, but the bottom and ceiling of the cave were dark, very hard to see anything in besides the long stalactites hanging from it and the stalagmites reaching up towards them.

“Let’s go for the exit. Quickly,” Roman ushered, already bolting around the ledge for the exit.

Of course, the adventure couldn’t be that easy and the cavern rumbled with a shake and a roar.

#lomoceit #prinxiety #qpp prinxiety #logicaliciet #to unearth and back again

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fathermarty · 2 years

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EEK IM READY.

ok i would like to be put in the marauders era and im a slytherin!

im 5'6 and im a fake brunette. she/her and a raging bisexual. if i could characterise myself it would be that im really adventurous and im really impulsive. i act like a child more time than a functional college student (take whatever you want from that) i like tall people ... i love playing sports they're literally my life. but i hate school. i read too much and i play the piano. i speak latin fluently. i listen to too much of the folklore album (sadly) i have two dogs whos names are salad and count. id consider myself a party animal? i like to party a lot when im not busy working two part time jobs. i deadass cant do anything without music. im also in love with 5 celebrities at the moment.

TY TY ILY THANK U FATHERMARTY <3

Okay, first of all, you sound like such a gem. I am so honored to have met you, Penelope! I hope you enjoy this. :)

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Sirius Black

You literally cannot tell me that Sirius would not be in love with you. I feel like he would know who you are because you're a Slytherin, but he really notices you when you laugh. Mostly at your own jokes or impulsive situations you get yourself into. He would be enamored by the fact you seem so unfazed by things around you, being the life of the party where ever you go.

Because you mentioned you are into sports there is no doubt in my mind that you would be a part of the quidditch team, obviously making that tension between the Slytherin Babe and the Gryffindor Heart Throb more prominent. What makes you different though is the fact that you show up to Gryffindor parties -- even when they beat Slytherin.

"Well surprise, surprise, come to crash a party, Penelope?" Sirius asks you the first time you show up for a party. "Well Sirius, judging by the fact this party is quite lame, I don't think I am crashing anything." Your effortless laugh makes Sirius swoon. Whether you just give a slight giggle or a full-on belly laugh, it was a noise of angels to him.

You guys go straight to calling each other by first names, this makes everyone assume you have been friends for years. In a way, without knowing, you both clicked right away. It was written in the cosmos for the two of you to cross paths. Sirius would even tell you this.

Over time, the more Gryffindor parties you attended, the closer you got to Sirius. [People definitely noticed the dynamic between the two of you instantly.] I feel like you both would challenge each other when drinking; who can shotgun faster, who can not blackout, silly things teenagers do when drinking. And by Merlin's Beard, did you give him a run for his money.

One day, after a Gryffindor party, you both were in class hungover contemplating the adventures of the night before. "I think I won that one Nelly," Sirius whispers from behind you. "You will only ever beat me when I am dead Siri." You both laugh together. Nicknames came so naturally between the two of you, it was comfortable in an unexplained way.

Sirius knew he loved you, not just liked but loved. He realized one day when you both skipped Potions to wander the grounds of Hogwarts. You started humming a song that you were learning on piano, and it was so beautiful to him. "Whatcha humming Nelly?" You stop and look at Sirius before laughing, "Well I could show you better than explaining it."

This led to the two of you going back to the Slytherin common room, which was abandoned, and where you found the comfort in familiarity with the piano.

Unknown to you, the song you were humming was by Sirius' favorite artist, Elvis Presley. He was in love with muggle music, something you also were fascinated with. You played the first few cords of Can't Help Falling in Love and Sirius knew right then he would marry you. You messed up one cord, being nervous from how intimate the moment between the two of you was, and tried to laugh it off.

"I could spend every day for the rest of my life listening to you play piano if it meant I would get to be by your side to laugh with you when you make a mistake." The simplicity in the statement but heartfelt emotion conveyed had your head spinning.

From that day, your relationship with Sirius changed. Glances and small smiles were shared between the two of you, innocent enough, but the gazes held more than words could illustrate.

Sirius was falling hard, and part of it scared him, but he wouldn't back down because of this. Little did he know you felt the same way, there was something special between the two of you.

After Hogwarts you busy yourself with work, something you found enjoyment in but also a good distraction. Sirius admired how hard you worked, another thing he realized he loves about you.

Sirius waits at your apartment door one evening, "It is now or never Sirius," He tells himself while pacing. You are surprised to see him to say the least, you guys have kept in contact but you always told yourself "If it is meant to be, then it will be," And with one look at Sirius, you knew it was meant to be.

"Hey Nelly, I was just uh-" Sirius stammers over his words, you smile knowing you are the one to jumble his emotions in this way. "Spit it out Siri," When Sirius sees the cocky smile on your face he decides actions speak louder than words, and he kisses you.

Your relationship was something everyone saw coming, the dynamic duo became me more prevalent when you two got together. It wasn't a chore to be together either, you found comfort in just existing in the same space. The connection between the two of you was so deep and whole that nothing could hinder it.

Sirius would for sure help you dye your hair, "You don't need to dye your hair, but since you want to, I would like to help you!" The small gestures from Sirius really made you feel seen, the small attention to the details meant the world to you. Sirius would even learn how to style your hair, simply because the closeness to you made his soul light aflame.

The comfort of your relationship always made you smile, Sirius always found ways to make you feel loved. Impromptu adventures to scenic places, or small hikes to places hidden away from the human eye. He made sure to always pick places he knew you would find peace in.

You had always wanted to find a quarry and go swimming while listening to music, and Sirius made sure to make this come true. Deep in a forest, there is a pond with a small cave attached. The water is the deepest blue, and the greenery surrounding it is so vibrant. It looks like a scene straight out of a magazine.

Neither of you wastes any time before jumping in. Sirius smiles as you stare around in astonishment, amazed by the fact that Sirius knows you so well. After a bit of swimming, you both head to shore for a quick meal Sirius prepared for you both. "Nelly wait, do you see that?" You turn around to see Sirius dive under the water to retrieve something. You giggle, thinking he probably found a fascinating rock. You meet him where the water meets the shore to see what he has. In his hand is a clamshell, you are confused, you wouldn't have guessed this was an area with clams. Sirius meets you and grabs your hand before kneeling down. He opens the clam to show the beautiful diamond ring sitting front and center.

Your hand flies to your mouth in astonishment, "Penelope, I have known since I first heard your laugh that I would marry you. Every day since then I have fallen so in love with you. The way you work hard every day when you play piano and sing off key when you pull silly pranks on me, but mostly, I fall in love with you because of how selfless and caring you are." Tears stream down your face, "Penelope, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Sirius smiles putting the ring on your finger, your arms fly around his shoulders. "You idiot, you could have lost the ring!" Sirius chuckles at your logic, he pulls you closer nuzzling his head into your hair.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

I may or may not have gotten a bit carried away with this LMAO, but I really hope you like it!

<3 Mar

Ship Requests: Open

Ship Request Info: Here

Request Info: Here

#sirius black ship #sirius black imagine #sirius black #sirius black fluff #marauders ships #open ships #marauders era #marauders fluff #gryffindor #mauraders era #hogwarts #slytherin

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josiebelladonna · 1 year

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mercury retrograde: all i can think of is all alone by mad season 🥺

last day in paradise: one of those songs that sticks with you and you don’t really have a reason for it, either. it just... is.

tom sawyer: *neil peart smiling from heaven*

shades of grey: alex being self aware? what a man.

pratique lo que predicas: this is weirdly more sinister than the original, like… picture a knife being sharpened.

the lizard: headcanon: alex was jimmy morrison in another life

channel 4: whatever you do, don’t fall asleep listening to this one. just... trust me on this.

revelation (mother earth): *ozzy laughing in the distance*

out there somewhere: alex: i can’t sleep. nathan: sorry, dude. matt: did someone say ‘splash cymbal’?

western sabbath stomp: picture alex in black cowboy boots, black leather pants that are a bit too snug, no shirt, big black cowboy hat… and the star of david around his neck. yippee ki yo ki yay motherfucker 🔥

panna: bread? bread.

bollywood: getting a weird little dave matthews vibe from this. idk, i expect to see carter beauford listed and a horn section somewhere. this is also one of those songs where my hips just instinctively start swaying to the rhythm the second it starts.

song of the open road: alex, did you take one of the many road trips my family and me had when i was a kid, either from carson city down to my grandparents’ house in simi then the antelope valley, or from carson city up to montana and down through yellowstone, and didn’t tell us because-

veritas: you are hearing the sound of a man breaking his own heart.

99/09: *heavy breathing*

path of least resistance: this cocaine makes me feel like i’m on this song. this song makes me feel like a broom.

alone in brooklyn: this is one of those songs where if you’re not in the right state of mind, oh my god, do you feel it. like, when it hits you wrong, it hits you WROOOOOOOONG and it’s especially difficult to explain to someone else if all they listens to is music with singing and shit.

the river lethe: alex in chains.

flection: i can think of about 50 things you can do with that tongue and i ain’t telling you half of them, mr. skolnick.

fade to black: ...yes. yes, THAT fade to black. and tbh, i kinda like it better than the original. this one’s more humble.

bollywood club remix: it’s like he knew someone as sensual as me would come along. EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!

unbound: something oddly heartbreaking about this one once i’ve had my deep listen through their discography. i just picture alex having the same look on his face the time i told him on ig live i couldn’t watch him that night. that look on his face and monsoon flow raindrops sliding down from my eyes to imitate tears.

django tango: *george costanza voice* there should be some salsa on the table here.

conundrum: if unbound is heartbreaking, this is like the weirdly unhinged older brother that drank five cups of coffee during a depressive episode. why am i under the impression alex has dealt with some severe anxiety or depression in his life.

culture shock: 🤠

gymnopédie no. 1: if you know the backstory on this one, it conjures a... *tina belcher voice* very nice image.

dodge the bambula: the sound of a mental breakdown at the coso junction rest stop bathroom at 1 in the morning where there’s no one else on the road and you’re about 100 miles from civilization.

key of sea: alex is a merman. no, i will not elaborate.

a question of moral ambiguity: alright. *sigh* who farted.

protect the dream: the one trio song that genuinely puts me to sleep. need i say more.

florida man blues: ALEX SINGING ALEX SINGING ALEX SINGING ALEX SINGING ALEX SINGING ALEX SINGING ALEX SINGING ALEX SINGING and he’s actually got a pretty good voice? he’s off-key but like... reel him in and have him tune up a bit, and he could actually do some legit singing in his own rite at some point. he’s got a nice full baritone à la nick cave or mark lanegan or somebody.

their covers are like little gems, too, and many of which you would never expect to work in a free jazz setting—look no further than the metallica, testament, or ozzy covers; they’ve also covered judas priest!

#deep listening #alex skolnick #alex skolnick trio #headcanon #text #this was a long time coming too 😅

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ceolforthesoul · 2 months

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The Soy Boys swap classic covers for their very own anthems for lovers

Helloooo lovely people and fáilte go dtí Ceol for the Soul - The podcast that puts the warm and fuzzy feelings received from live music into words. For those of you who are new here, my name is Aisling — a singer-songwriter from the West of Ireland currently living in Groningen, a city in the north of the Netherlands. I am constantly in awe of artists succesfully managing to pierce my heart and bring me with them into their whimsical inner worlds while performing live. Ceol for the Soul is a space where I attempt to transfer the essence of the musical experiences I encounter to you through reviews, interviews and opinion pieces.

As usual, before I begin the episode - I invite you to pause this here for now and rejoin me after you have listened to a song from this week’s spotlight artist… The Soy Boys! This is the first time I get to introduce one of Groningen’s local gems to the podcast — and what a gezellig group to guide you into the city’s vibrant music scene.

A new side to the once-cover band was unveiled at a sunkissed Noorderzon performance last August. With a Spotify release of two original songs a few months later, The Soy Boys revealed the unexplored musical destinations they wanted to reach. So go ahead and follow the path they have begun to pave by listening to one or both of their released tracks --- which I hope stop you in your tracks to dance your heart out.....

What struck you most about The Soy Boy’s sound? Did your mind wander to any unexpected places while listening? Can you imagine the electricity produced by these songs while being played live?

This liveness and the band's continued discovery of sounds can be envisioned while I reflect on The Soy Boy’s most recent concert...

--------------------

A band’s name that matched countless stickers painted on my student house walls appeared on the Instagram story of Simplon, a popular music venue in the city. Every Thursday Simplon UP gives its stage to UP and-coming artists in Groningen — the 14th of March was The Soy Boy’s turn. There was no doubt that I wanted to go and support Wout, the band’s lead singer who I’ve gotten to sing alongside myself several times over the years. His bandmates whose friendship outside that label is evident are guitarist Tom Horowtiz, drummer David Hübner and bassist Luuk van Keeken. This was the first time I got to experience a Soy Boy set full of originals and the band's evolved identity was quite literally written all over the performance.

The Soy Boys swapped classic covers for their very own anthems for lovers. For forty-five attentive minutes, we were transported into the minds and lives of the band like never before with no emotions being spared. Arriving to an already captivated crowd at the end of their first song reflected the soulful and sentimental atmosphere that lasted the entire night. The second song 'Lucky" was a charming and warm welcome --- I felt exactly like its title for being able to catch it. Tom’s rising guitar riffs amplified the meaning of Wout’s words as he sang “Tomorrow’s gonna be a bit better, it doesn’t have to be this hard” — the first glimpse into the playful call-and-answer conversations that Tom and Wout would have between voice and guitar throughout the show.

This joyful chatter thrived in ‘New Shoes’, one of the grooviest numbers of the night - letting loose and surrendering to the move and flow of the absorbed audience was the only option. Then David abandoned his drumsticks for a guitar and brought the band (Tom especially) to an incredible bluegrass-inspired melody. The Soy Boys' commitment to experimentation and having fun with the endless musical capabilities that can reveal their hearts was bleeding through every note.

Aiste, The Soy Boy's manager blessed us with the lyrics of ‘Bright & Blue’, “We used to think dreaming too big was too small” and many more of her heartfelt lines floated longingly beside Wout’s soothing synth. The words of someone close to The Soy Boys radiating through the band captured a deeply personal feeling that the lyrics of a stranger could not.

'Everything a Little Bit’ was a well-chosen way to wind down the evening while simultaneously winding it up with the heightened energy this song created. A very impressive extended ‘looooooveeeeeee’ from 'Only a Weekend Though' closed the set and encapsulated the overarching theme of the night. The Soy Boys' breakthrough into original material has put all of their hearts on the sleeves of their colourful shirts.

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runawaymun · 2 years

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Hii! This is my first time making a request to you, hopefully I get everything right. I love your account, your writing is simply flawless, I love reading your posts! Could I request an Elrond imagine with a female reader? Have it being a comfort character scenario (I hope that’s right!) where Elrond asks the reader to go walking through the gardens to look at the stars with him when both aren’t able to sleep? Maybe he could be admiring her or having subtle touches of hands or fly away strains of hair because they both have feelings for the other? And he confesses to her when he just can’t take it and it’s just teeth-rotting fluff? He’s one of the few characters my mind goes to when I’m feeling lonely or anxious. I tend to think about taking his arm or even receiving a hug from him in these kind of scenarios, especially when I’m feeling lonely which is a lot. I hope this is enough/right for what you like to request! I apologize if it’s not! If you make this, I would be over the moon, but I also understand if it doesn’t spark anything! Thank you anyway! ❤️

Thank you so much for the compliment. This prompt is so lovely. I hope this works for you! ❤️

Elrond x Fem!Reader, Fluff & Romance ~ The Moon Garden

“It is rather late to be awake, don’t you think?”

The voice catches you off guard. You glance behind you from where you’ve been sitting, idly staring at the dying coals in your fireplace, and see Elrond there. You can’t help a smile. He stands tall in the doorway, filling it, hands folded behind his back.

“I can’t sleep,” you admit.

It isn’t that you’re anxious. Rivendell is a very difficult place to be anxious in. You just can’t seem to shut off tonight.

Elrond hums and says: “I was just about to go for a walk. I find it clears the mind. Would you care to join me?”

You fight a blush and try not to answer too quickly.

“I’d be glad for the company,” you say, “Thank you.”

The corners of his mouth turn up and he dips his head, stepping back into the hall. You wish you could think of something intelligent to talk about. The two of you have known each other for years, but no matter how comfortable you are in his company, the charisma that radiates off of him always makes your stomach flutter.

He takes you down a flight of stone stairs and then out beneath the starlit sky. You look up, and your breath catches. It’s a new moon tonight, and the sky is perfectly clear, so the stars are bright and shine in an array of colors: red, blue, even green and purple. Some must be planets but you’re not sure which.

“Oh, it’s perfect tonight!” You exclaim.

When you glance up at him, Elrond is looking at you, and not the sky. He’s smiling. He finally looks up at the stars and agrees: “It is. One of my favorite nights of the year.”

You nudge him gently in the shoulder. “This was a good idea.”

It makes him chuckle, and you’d do it a thousand times more just to hear it. The two of you start down the path, gravel crunching beneath your boots. Elrond offers you his arm and you take it, and that simple touch makes your spine tingle.

He knows the stars better than you do, so you’re happy to listen as he points certain ones out by name and charts their path with his fingertip. You’re able to find constellations and ask him about them. He knows their names in every language on Middle Earth, and the stories behind them, too. The one you’re calling Orion, the Elves call Oromë, but in both stories the character is a hunter and the star by his feet is a great dog. The Dwarves, however, see the hunter’s belt as gems in the crown of a king, and the nearby bright star is his beloved queen.

The night is alive with the sound of crickets and singing night birds, and the air drifting off of the river is pleasantly cool, ruffling your hair. Elrond is warm next to you. Without thinking, you edge a bit closer into his side, and he doesn’t pull away. In fact, you can swear he leans closer, too.

As you turn the path, it smells a bit like vanilla and a white flower catches your eye. You grab Elrond’s arm with your free hand.

“Is that night phlox?” And then you’re rushing over to it, cupping the little white star-shaped flowers. “I’ve never seen one blooming before! But I suppose I have never been out walking so late.”

When you look over at him that bright, affectionate smile is back on his face. “I have quite a few night-blooming plants in the gardens. Would you like to see them?”

Of course you would. He doesn’t even have to ask. You run over to him and he guides you down the path with a ghosting touch to your back, and points out the plants as you pass them: blush-pink moonflowers, peach-colored brugmansia with its trumpet-shaped blossoms, night-blooming jasmine flowers and orchids, and six-petaled tuberose that seem to absorb and reflect the starlight.

Eventually the pair of you come to sit on one of the benches that overlook the Bruinen cascade. During the night, the waterfall looks like molten silver as it weaves over the rocks and through the valley. The two of you sit there, watching it and the stars in turns, content with each other’s company in the easy silence that follows.

Elrond breaks it with a whispered: “Do not move.”

You freeze, staring straight ahead, and say: “What?”

But you can hear a smile in his voice when he says: “Hold very still.”

He brushes your shoulder with just a fingertip that raises goosebumps on your skin, and then tells you to look. Balanced on his hand is a moth, slowly opening and closing its wings as it searches along his skin with its feelers. Its wings are an iridescent painting of colors that shift between turquoise and orange, purple and gold, with black flecks speckled throughout.

“Oh,” you breathe. It’s only three inches across, and you’re left awestruck at how intricate something so small can be.

“A sunset moth,” Elrond murmurs fondly. “It mistook you for a flower.”

There’s something in the way that he says it. You can’t put your finger on what, exactly, but it makes your stomach flutter again. The two of you watch it explore Elrond’s hand (he carefully rotates when the moth’s about to run out of room). After a little while, it loses interest and floats away.

Another moment passes in silence, then Elrond asks: “How much longer do you expect to stay in Rivendell?”

You have a habit of traveling, but you always seem to wind up back here no matter how far away you go. You push your hair back behind your ear and shrug. “I have no plans to leave for the moment, but I don’t want to make a nuisance of myself.”

“You are in no danger of that, I can assure you,” he replies at once. His gaze falls to his hands, then flicks back up to you. His expression is so intense it knocks the air out of your chest. He says softly: “You would have a home here, if you wish to stay.”

You’re suddenly aware of just how close you’re sitting to him, and you feel so warm you think you might combust. Breathless, you ask: “Is that an invitation, or a request?”

That intense expression softens to something almost shy. His bright gray eyes are full of affection when he replies: “I have grown very fond of your company, I must admit.”

You shift to face him, and whisper, “You should say what you mean.”

He studies you, gauging, thinking, and then leans a bit closer and stops just short, still watching you. You tilt your head up to his. The question in his eyes is unmistakable.

“I am a lord,” he says carefully, “And your host—”

“--just kiss me, already,” you interrupt.

He actually flushes red. Then he dips to do just that, and it’s gentle and soft and everything that you have ever imagined, if you admit to imagining it at all.

“Stay here.” His breath ghosts across your mouth, “With me.”

You smile against his lips and reach up to take his face in your hands, stroking across those knife-sharp cheekbones, tracing that blush that has risen all the way to the tips of his ears.

“I would love to.”

That smile of his which has been so soft all night widens into brilliance, and he kisses you again, deeper this time.

“This was a good idea,” you say just as you had earlier, and shift to lean your head against his shoulder.

“Yes,” he agrees, putting an arm around you. “Yes, it was.”

#elrond #elrond x reader #elrond x you #elrond imagine #catch me writing tooth rotting fluff at 4AM 'cause I can't sleep #this was really wholesome omg #i loved doing this #And Rohan Will Answer! (Requests)#it's technically fem!reader but this can really be read as GN

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anythingwriter · 3 years

Text

Badassery

Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: language, Oswald Mosley, teeny tiny bit of sexual assault, implied smut if you squint, small bit of angst

Word count: 1,988 of pure trash:)

Requested by: anonymous 🐆

Summary: At one of Tommy’s famous parties, he sees his wife being hit on by the one and only Oswald Mosley. On his way to save her he stops in his tracks, shocked by how she handled things.

*******************************************************

Y/n Shelby was definitely a force to be reckoned with. While most men and women cleared a path when they saw Tommy coming, they’d clear the whole damn street when they saw her. She was unpredictable and even scarier than Arthur doped up on his snow.

Oh and her looks, she was one of the most beautiful gems Small Heath had ever seen. The men all wanted a taste of her, and the women strived to be her. She knew she was beautiful, and she walked with her head held high in confidence. Most importantly, she knew she could take care of herself. Apparently though, her husband did not.

It was a Friday evening and naturally your husband had decided to throw a party. People from the richest of families were there, wanting to see how the Thomas Shelby lived.

You and Tommy were in the corner conversing amongst yourselves, laughing at the guest and their ridiculous outfits, and Charlie was upstairs with the maids, hopefully asleep by now. Tommy had gone for a normal suit, his ocean eyes standing out against the deep black. You had chosen a beautiful burgundy dress with a daring plunge in the neck, accompanied by a jaw dropping diamond necklace Tommy had given you for your three year anniversary. The dress hugged you perfectly, showing off your best assets. Tommy couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.

“Tommy, look at Mrs.Evans! Sh- she looks like she has a dog wrapped around her neck!” You bent over laughing, having to put a hand on your knee to stop yourself from falling flat out on the floor, almost spilling your wine in the process. Her scarf was obnoxiously large and fluffy, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Tommy looked over as well, and he chuckled at the sight, nowhere near laughing as hard as you. It was safe to say you were a little more on the tipsier side. He reached down his ring clad hand and grabbed your wine, “that’s enough for you love,” and he put it on the passing butlers tray, mumbling a small thanks in the process.

You straightened back out and looked up at Tommy and gave him the biggest puppy eyes you could muster, you were not done with your wine and you wanted it back.

“Bu-“

“No buts darling, you wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of all these people, right?. Maybe wait until it’s just me and you, yeah? Sound good?” You weakly nodded your head to Tommy, knowing there was no way you were going to win this debate.

“Tommy?”

He turned to look at you, “yes darling?”

You stared at him with the best serious face you could possibly offer in your given state, “ You- you said butts!” You doubled back over again laughing your ass off. It truly wasn’t that funny, but you felt like a damn comedian at this point. Tommy gave you one of his famous “bitch, really” faces and walked away from you.

“Tommy! Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here!” He kept walking to the other side of the room, not once turning around to spare you another glance.

“Tommmmyyyyy!” He still didn’t turn around, and you were about to shout again until you saw some guest looking at you. You gave them all a bitter look and they averted their gazes, none of them wishing to die tonight. You frowned in Tommy’s direction before turning around to find someone you knew to talk too. You spotted Polly in the distance and headed her way.

“Ahhh Mrs.Shelby, lovely to see you this evening.”

You stopped in your tracks at the voice, slowly turning around to meet the cold eyes of Oswald Mosley. All the wine you had drank that night quickly left your system at the sight of him. Tommy had warned you to stay away from him, he warned you that he had no care about the feelings of women. You knew he was a terrible man.

He reached out with his bare clammy hand and grabbed your glove covered one and brought it up to his lips to give it a kiss, never once breaking eye contact with you.

You cringed on the inside, giving him a charming smile anyway. “Lovely too see you as well, Mr.Mosley.”

He looked you up and down, “might I just say dear, you look rather… ravishing tonight,” as the last word left his mouth he allowed his eyes to stop and stare at your breast. You pulled back at this, hating yourself for choosing such a daring dress. “Thank you, sir. I do believe I should go find my husband though, I’m sure he’s looking for me, have a good night Mr.Mosley.”

As you were walking around him to follow the way Tommy had left you moments prior, Oswald latched his hand onto your wrist, pulling you back towards him.

“Actually y/n, I ran into him for a brief conversation before I came to see you, and I can promise he seems quite busy with Mr.Solomons at the moment.” He gave you a sinister smile, still not letting go of your wrist.

You tried to pull back your hand but he only gripped it tighter, your wrist began to throb at this point.

“Mr.Mosley,” your teeth were clenched and you were sure your face was red, “I would actually love to go say hello to Mr.Solomons. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Alfie.” And with one final tug, your wrist slipped from his hold, but he was having none of that. He quickly grabbed you by your hips and pulled you flush to his chest, you could smell the alcohol and cheap cologne coming from him. For being so confident in himself he sure smelt like a piece of shit.

He squeezed your hips too tight for comfort and forced a smile towards you.

“It seems to me, Mrs.Shelby,” squeeze “that you are trying to get away from me. Do you not enjoy my company?” His dark brown eyes were boring into your e/c eyes.

You felt disgusted, who did this man think he was?

You glared at him, you gathered every ounce of anger and disgust you could and pushed it all behind your eyes.

“Mr.Mosley, I suggest you take your hands off of me right now, I don’t believe my husband would be too happy. He doesn’t like sharing.” You were furious, spitting out every word through your clenched teeth.

He scoffed, “your husband? Wouldn’t you like to see what a real man is like?” He still held your hips, and he slowly but forcefully pushed his hips up against yours.

*******************************************************

Across the room, Tommy was looking for you while he listened to Alfie speak. His blood boiled at the sight he found.

“So you see Tommy I-“

“Shut up Alfie.”

Alfie gazed over at Tommy incredulously, his cane stuck in midair from his rambling.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me Thomas?”

Tommy didn’t have time for Alfies games and pointed his cigarette in your direction. He followed Tommy’s hand and widened at the sight. There was no mistaking the disgusting excuse of a man and the beautiful woman Tommy was oh so lucky to call his.

Alfie had met you a couple of times, and although you were one scary bitch, he knew you were kind hearted behind your exterior. Even though you weren’t his he felt rage bubbling inside. He could see the discomfort on your face, he could only imagine what Tommy was thinking.

“Yeah, if I were you lad, I think I would go over and put a bullet in between the wops eyes, yeah.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more Alfie.” And with that Tommy was marching his way across the room to save his wife. When he was halfway across the room with determination on his face, he almost tripped over his own feet. The sight in front of him was not one he was expecting to see.

*******************************************************

Mosley pushed his hips up towards yours, and disgustingly enough you could feel everything through his pants. You could feel bile rising in your throat. You looked over his shoulder and saw Tommy on his way over with figurative steam coming out of his ears.

To hell with Tommy, he was the one that left you in the first place. You didn’t need his help, you were anything but a damsel in distress.

With that you brought your knee up to Mosley’s groin, a satisfactory smile on your face hearing him moan in pain.

When he doubled over in pain you didn’t hesitate before beating on the man.

“I-,” punch “said get-,” punch “off of-,” punch “ME!” kick.

Breathing heavily standing over the bloodied mans body, your senses began to come back to you. The band Tommy had hired stopped playing, everyone had stopped dancing, looking at you with bewilderment on their faces. You could hear Mosley struggling for air beneath you, and Tommy, well he was completely frozen in his spot, his jaw hanging open and he felt something stir inside of him.

You looked around, wiping off the dirt and blood on your hands and snapped at everybody staring at you, “shows over fuckers!” Everyone resumed what they were doing.

Tommy stormed over to you and for a second you thought he was going to shout. His brows were furrowed and he had a scowl on his face. When he was finally standing in front of you, you ducked your head waiting for the scolding.

You let out a surprised sound of shock when Tommy grabbed your face between both his hands and pressed his lips to yours. It was messy and uncoordinated, but neither of you cared.

Recovering from your moment of shock you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing back with just as much neediness. Tommy moved his hands down your back and grabbed your ass, emitting a moan from you and he slipped his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste of wine and cigarettes.

When he pulled back for air he stared into your eyes, keeping his hand on your ass.

“That-,” he took a deep breath, “was the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He pulled your hips closer to his, and you could feel him hardening against you.

You smirked up at Tommy, laughing before running your hand down his chest. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

His eyes darkened, when he opened his mouth to speak again he was interrupted by a very impressed gangster.

“Y/n! Darling!,” Alfie came running over as fast as he could with his leg, swinging his cane all over the place in excitement, almost pulling off Mrs.Evans scarf in the process, “that was amazing! Tell me, how did you do it?”

You gave an innocent smile in the mans direction, still wrapped in Tommy’s arms, “it’s called badassery Alfie, I could teach you if you want?”

Tommy let out a loud laugh at that, letting go of your ass to pull you to his side by your waist and gave Alfie an award winning Thomas Shelby smile.

Alfie looked at you for a moment before laughing himself.

“You gotta’ keeper here Tom, don’t let her go or I’ll snatch her up myself.”

Tommy glared at Alfie and turned his attention to you smiling, “Trust me Alf, I’m never letting this one go.”

And with that Tommy dragged you upstairs into your shared room, showing you how hot he thought it truly was, and awarding you a job well done.

*******************************************************

a/n: I hope you like it honey! I’m not sure I liked the ending though, but I hope y’all do!!❤️❤️

Also! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Have a good day darlins!🥰

@shadowfoxey @nothingleftthaticando

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders

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astro-pioneer · 3 years

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I can't stop thinking about knight!Dain only protecting one person of royalty that he loved and they both get cursed-

yeah, wrute it ❗😃

Your Sword and Shield 『Dainsleif』

The royals were the highest priority - "Protect the heir above everyone else" was his only direct order as the Twilight Sword. But yet, when the gods descended and destroyed Khaenri'ah while he did as ordered, both got punished. And now, both search the world for the other. | We Will Be Reunited spoilers | Angst to fluff (somewhat)

Oh lordy anon I just- ugh. This has been marinating in my thoughts ever since it was revealed all because I thought of ball dancing with him. Plus Dain is a beauty of a man who would treat you right and no one can tell me otherwise. This went a different way then how I thought of it but that's just because I can't properly write my thoughts lmao. Yikes I got tired of this for some reason lmao I'll do a part two that focuses more on (Y/N) travelling with Aether after the whole shebang happened so stay tuned for that (:

The Twilight Sword's job was to protect the nation and population of Khaenri'ah. But, at the same time, it was also to put the heir of the royal family first, as he was a royal guard first and foremost. It was so conflicting and, no matter which choice was made, there would always be a negative aftermath. Dainsleif was aware of that and told himself that he'd never allow his personal feelings influence his actions.

He lied to himself.

Soft music travelled through the big, barren room. Only two people were in there. They didn't perform any exaggerated movements like someone normally would doing a dance, but instead bathed in each other's company. "Darling, I feel as though there will be war in the near future with the gods and us. When that time comes, please put the citizens before me." If only the couple knew how near that future would be. Maybe he wouldn't have lied to his lover, too.

That following night, the blond watched as the curse bestowed upon him just moments ago spread from their back and up their neck. Just to spite Dainsleif even more, the gods made it spread down their left arm, the opposite of where it went on him. The pained screams of the other filled their heads, echoing whenever a moment of silence comes onto them.

Looking back at it while waiting for Aether to meet back with him from talking to Boreas, he realized just how twisted the incident was. He did his job as a royal guard; he protected the royal he was assigned to. After all, orders given by superiors always overruled the ones you originally had. And yet here Dainsleif was, donning a cursed arm and no luck in finding his lost eternal companion.

(Y/N) was somewhere in Teyvat - somewhere in Mondstadt, and the archons be damned if they don't expect him to tear apart this nation to find them. But, before all that, he has to accompany the outlander and his child companion to inhibit another one of the Abyss Order's plans.

"The first Field Tiller," a person donning clothes similar to those Dainsleif wears whispered to themselves, "forced to sit and face the reason it's origin was destroyed." They, too, turned to where the machinery was facing, gazing up to the floating island. "Celestia..."

The breeze erupting from the still harsh wind barriers of the ruins hit their face, causing them to close their eyes and enjoy the moment for a while. "Your creation was the topic of multiple people's conversation for a long time, Tiller, my family being no exception. I remember watching you in action; you flattened an area the size of these ruins with no damage. But, when mass produced after your success, the other machines were much weaker and less efficient. Perhaps that's why we fell under the threat of the gods." They spat out the title like it was venom. "If only they took more time with the future models and made it more like you, we would've been able to set them all loose into the battlefield.

"And yet here I stand in front of you, talking about all the 'what if's instead of a 'what now?' and acting like I can go back and change what happened to us. There are two other people from Khaenri'ah in this nation, but one wants to stop what has become of my people and the other is conflicted on the original orders given by someone I do not know of. While I do not know what to do. My darling is fighting the Abyss Order, and perhaps that is the rightful path. After all, this world has changed, and only a small few are not dependant on the Seven. That rules out trying to recreate Khaenri'ah. Besides, no one would react orderly to a nation without a god, and the citizens of that nation would refuse to work with the land ruled by the Seven. A war would break out all over again. Besides, my people have gone so far down into whatever madness they fell in that they probably do not remember what it originally was."

They knew nothing would be near to listen to their vocal thoughts, but yet they stopped in favour of silently reminiscing. The scent of despair, corruption, and bloodshed was nearing, and yet they didn't move. "Perhaps I've prolonged our reunion for far too long..." A smile that showed the pain of 500 years of torture appeared on their face.

Paimon held her hands to her face as the trio got closer to the Field Tiller, "Oh, Paimon's got a bad feeling about this..." And yet, they still went in, stopping at the Statue of the Seven before Paimon stopped them again. "Wait! Who's that person?" She gasped then, "Are they a part of the Abyss? Are they here for the eye?"

With one look, Dainsleif knew who it was. "I can assure you, that person is one of the last people you can expect to be a part of it." He tore his eyes off of them, turning to look at the concerned face of Aether and scared Paimon. "Well then, let us go check." To believe he allowed his front to drop just enough for Aether to catch. He clicked his tongue before leading the way up.

(E/C) eyes with primogem-shaped pupils revealed themselves to the world once again. The same as those of Dainsleif, Aether connected. "(Y/N)..." The taller blond breathed, forcing himself to not go over immediately. Who knows how much they changed in the 500 years they were separated?

"Hello, darling. I wish we could've reunited under less life-altering events, but..." The rest went unspoken but the two knew what they meant. "I do not know if the eye is still in here, but this is indeed the Field Tiller."

Paimon gasped, pointing a finger. "How'd you know what we were looking for?!" (Y/N) arched an eyebrow at the floating companion.

"An abyss mage left behind a talisman which was presumably meant for one of his superiors. It spoke of the Guardian of the Vortex and a "Defiled Statue" as well as the Field Tiller's eye. But yet, despite being reassured I'm not a threat, you still assume until given proof. That's good."

"'His'? I've never heard of someone use those pronouns for abyss mages. Or any, now that I really think about it." The smile was melancholic and filled with sorrow Aether only saw in the reminiscent ones of Venti and Zhongli. Paimon understood to drop the subject. "Anyway, use elemental sight to see if the eye is in there!"

Dainsleif's and (Y/N)'s capes waved in the breeze as Aether couldn't find the eye. It was on there, however. When it was extracted, (Y/N) couldn't help but analyze and compare it to the other tillers they themselves looked inside of. However, they didn't dare touch it or disagree with the decision to leave it with their significant other. A gem gleamed in the sunlight.

"Would you like to go with us (Y/N)?" For the first time Aether talked to them. "We're going to the place with the Defiled Statue if you were interested."

And just like how Dainsleif agreed to join Aether for any commissions with the Abyss, they looked into his eyes, "Sure." It was when they started the trek from the waypoint to the cavern that the two finally interacted fully. "I'm glad to see you're safe," their voice was the same tone they held when they spoke of the war of Khaenri'ah, going miles while their words only spoke of their feelings. Corrupted hands interlaced together for the first time.

#✩ neptune #✎ expedition #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #dainsleif x reader

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ladyartemesia · 4 years

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Fic recs for taehyung? I love your stuff btw I’ve read them all uwu

As a beacon of extra-ness in an already extra world, I am entirely incapable of just recommending fics like a normal blog. No. I’ve got to wax on like a bloomin connoisseur. I have compiled some (but not all) of my favorite works in several different categories and sorted them accordingly. This crazy list is so long I had to add a “keep reading”... but I simply couldn’t bear to leave any of these off the list. They are all so good!

Fics have been divided into 8 categories. Some are under the cut.

▨ FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS and FRIENDS TO LOVERS ▨ ▨ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ▨ ▨ FANTASY ▨ ▨ ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING ▨ ▨ HYBRID and ABO (alpha/omega) ▨ ▨ MULTIPLE PARTNERS ▨ ▨ NEIGHBORS AND ROOMMATES ▨ ▨ TABOO THEMES and DARK FIC (Sex Work/Power Imbalance/Very Unsafe Sex) ▨ ▨

▨ FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS and FRIENDS TO LOVERS ▨

Insomnia by @hobiwonder

This is one of those fics I read and literally could not stop thinking about. It is wildly hot and honestly hilarious. Poor reader cannot sleep and the beautiful bro she’s tutoring offers a rather unconventional solution.

(Ego) Hoe Chronicles: KTH by @suga-kookiemonster

Listen. If you find a niche fan blog devoted entirely to Ego Tae... I’m not gonna say it’s mine. But it’s probably mine. I once told suga-kookiemonster that I would literally read a story about Ego Tae going grocery shopping on a Wednesday night and I stand by that. In this lurid romp, the reader falls into the clutches of everyone’s favorite bohemian sex lord and he rails her into another dimension.

Falling, Falling, Gone by @johobi

Pining (mutual or otherwise) is not really my thing, but I would straight up read Jo’s laundry list if she posted it. As usual I was blown away by how everything she does seems somehow better than any other version of it. This reader is really unique as well, and her relationship with the wildly popular soccer star Tae comes to a sexy and hilarious head at a sort of bachelor auction. With sharp dialogue, delightful subtext, and fantastic side characters, you really shouldn’t miss it. It’s pretty much perfect.

A Friendly Favor by @baeseoul

This is the classic “teach me some sex for another woman” trope and it is done so well. Sweet best friend Tae is looking to benefit from your experience, but his is not the only world about to be thouroughly rocked.

Officer Kim and the Criminal Crush by @ddaengyoonmin

This is one of the best twists on childhood friends to lovers I have ever seen. Tae grows up to become a cop and reader grows up to be a societal menace. I won’t spoil it, but it’s the perfect blend of nostalgia, tenderness, and smut. This fic technically doesn’t have a name so I had to give it one to link it. It’s part of an AMAZING series Zoe did that I also highly recommend.

Out of the Blue by @jimlingss

This is one of those stories that blooms throughout the narrative until you are left with this gorgeous flower at the end. I loved the journey of these two characters. It was real and it perfectly captures the experience of finding your soulmate in the person you least expect.

Sin Pijama by @brilliantlybasicb

This fic is a switch culture fic. It is wild wicked hot and this Tae is unreal. I love the way he lets the reader think she is in control just long enough. It is a wild romp with an adorable sequel and honestly you should read it.

Girls Like You by @jjiminah

I was in jjiminah’s asks IMMEDIATELY about this fic because I had FEELINGS. The reader begins wordlessly teasing and tempting Tae on their morning bus ride every day until he is literally losing his mind. Everything that follows is fire. Jjiminah has hinted she will wrote more for these two and I NEED IT.

Sighs and Sonnets by @btsaudge

This fic is beautiful. Like it’s basically art. This is a bad boy who is bad for you. But he has the soul of a poet and the stroke game of a renaissance master. Bittersweet and seductive, this fic is a full experience.

The Text by @taetaesbaebaepsae

Tae is your friend with benefits but it looks like feeling may have been caught by one or more parties. When you attempt to soothe your aching heart with another pretty boy, Tae decides to stake his claim. This was very sexy. The whole fic was sexy.

▨ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ▨

Monster by @neonlights92

Monster and all of its companion series about each of the boys is one of those fics that I reread constantly and also just think about constantly. This is one of the best mafia AUs out there and it’s characters are vivid and unforgettable. Tae’s stubborn resistance to his lovely new wife in contrast with her quiet, clever strength really brings this story to life. A word of warning. The masterlist links are a bit messed up. To read part two you must click on part three. And to read part three must click on part four. The link to part four is at the bottom of part three (or you can just search it on her site. It is definitely all there though).

Dichotomy by @kpopfanfictrash

There is a reason the incomparable Shanna is on this list three times. She is truly incomparable. This is childhood friends-to enemies-to spouses and it is wonderful. I adore this Tae. He is sharp and vulnerable and occasionally heavy handed, but truly a gem. This fic also features one of the best angry sex scenes I’ve ever run my eyeballs across.

▨ FANTASY ▨

Chism by @kpopfanfictrash

The world-building in this story is genuinely awe inspiring. You could write series upon series within this vivid universe. The god of Winter is missing and Summer’s heat burns unchecked for many years. The reader is a warrior with a unique ability tasked with guarding a very interesting prisoner. This story is so good. I mean it is really bloomin incredible. It’s hard to say what I liked best about it, because it was stellar across the board.

Obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash

In the pantheon of delicious Tae incarnations, Obsidian Taehyung is essentially unrivaled as a grey witch who moonlights as a sexy rock star. His extremely erotic clash with a white witch detective plays out as the two of them track down a sinister killer (with the help of some truly memorable side characters).

Out of this World by @ddaengyoonmin

This one is really unique. Tae is a merman scientist on the water planet of Neptune and when the reader and her misguided crew crash into his sea, he takes it upon himself to improve inter-species relations. This fic features excellent world building alongside several twists and surprises. Clever scientist Tae is downright irresistible.

▨ ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING ▨

Picking Flowers by @jamaisjoons

So this story is a journey - truly a beautiful one and it’s a gorgeous addition to the hanahaki genre. There is real pain and I cried real tears, but gosh it was so sexy and so worth it. I was surprised by how truly immersed I ended up in this piece. I lost track of everything else. The end is insanely satisfying, but the journey is really what makes this fic unmissable.

Until Yesterday by @jimlingss

This fic destroyed me slowly then slowly put me together again piece by piece. When I say I went through it - I WENT THROUGH IT. The story is loosely based on the movie “The Vow” and it is just fantastic. Beautiful and tender till the last word.

The Foolish Muse by @bibbykins

This is the story of someone who is deeply in love, but knows they deserve better. It is a sexy and evocative work with allusions to mythology that fit seamlessly into the narrative. I think my favorite part is Tae discovering how much the reader meant to him and what choices ultimately lead them to a really delicious conclusion.

Back to You by @ladyartemesia

The last time I did a fic rec list, it got like 700 notes. Ya girl is not makin the same mistake again. I spent hours on this list. My work is comin along for the ride. Kim Taehyung is the love of your life, until one day he disappears without a trace.

Vacancy by @ppersonna

This one is the only idol AU on the list and I normally don’t read those, but Lindy’s work is too good to miss in any setting. I am thrilled I took a look because what I found was a glimpse into a beautiful relationship that weathers and eventually overcomes the challenges of loving in the limelight. There is a LOT of emotional depth and symbolism which really elevates everything about this lovely story. The reader’s internal struggles in the face of her lover’s fame are extremely well done.

▨ HYBRID and ABO ▨ (alpha/omega)

Eye of the Tiger by @opaljm

I am beyond hype about this story which is (very) loosely inspired by Zootopia and features a cocky tiger Taehyung and a fiesty prey hybrid he needs to fake date in order to keep panther Jimin from murdering him. (Tiger Tae got a tad too frisky around Jimin’s mate and now things are dangerously awkward.) This story is already so freakin good. I cannot wait for the rest.

Silver and Blue by @taetaewonderland

What happens when you get on the wrong side of the right werewolf? Very sexy - very crazy times. Chronologically this is the first of the Silver and Blue series which follows barely civilized were-Tae through his courtship and eventually his relationship with the spunky reader. Holla to all my impreg kink homies. This is the fic for you.

Heat Run by @ladyartemesia

As I said before, the last time I did a fic rec list, it got like 700 notes. Ya girl is not makin the same mistake twice. I spent hours on this list. My work is comin along for the ride. Alpha lawyer V is a man of many secrets, but his well ordered reality spirals wildly out of control when he crosses paths with a fiery omega set on saving the world from his wicked ways.

Beautiful Stranger by @interludemoonchild

This was a wild ride from start to finish. Taehyung is a tiger hybrid shifter who escapes from the circus to be close to a veterinary student he bonded with. There is a lot of interesting twists and surprises in this one. I was definitely screaming at the end.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell by @jingabitch

A very young wolf hybrid Taehyung adopts you as his pet human when you are just a kid. After Tae leaves to serve in the military he returns to an adult version of his sweet little princess and chaos ensues. Mind the tags for this one folks. It’s excellent, but there are very triggering themes throughout.

▨ MULTIPLE PARTNERS ▨

Level of Restraint by @lemonjoonah

This is not strictly a Tae fic in that he is only one of three major players in this twisted masterpiece. Lemon is the undisputed queen of the surprise twist and this one is truly brilliant. People dropped this fic in the discord calling it the best fan fiction they had ever read and I am not here to argue with them at all. Fair warning, every word - every inch of this fic is sexy and it’s delicious brand of titillation is wrapped around your psyche good and tight by the end.

Four by @luxekook

The quadruplets next door are fueling your very lurid fantasies. It turns out they have some fantasies of their own... You will need water if you read this fic. This is the original patented Kim Taehyung Horny Hive Mind 4D Experience™

▨ NEIGHBORS AND ROOMMATES ▨

The Heat Wave Series by @curly-bangtan

The original story (chapter 1) in this series is definitely famous, but I don’t know how many people have read all 9 chapters and if you haven’t, you are really missing the incredible journey of two very horny idiots stumbling recklessly towards real and amazing love. Everything is set off when the air conditioner breaks and a pair of wild roommates shed their inhibitions along with their clothes.

Flicker by @chimoona

So this fic started out with adorable neighbor dynamics and ended with erotic rope tying. Baby I was ABOUT IT. This was so bloomin hot and also like sweet and tender. Really a sexy and sentimental treasure.

Not Your Typical Flower Shop Story by @jungtaeyoongles

This story goes from “aww” to “WHAT THE-” real quick. Fast paced plot and twist after twist turn the whole flower shop au upside down and then inside out. I can’t say more because spoilers but like - WOW.

▨ TABOO THEMES and DARK FIC ▨ (Sex Work/Power Imbalance/Very Unsafe Sex)

Extracurricular by @ppersonna

One of my favorite professor-student AUs. The reader writes her gorgeous professor a borderline erotic analysis of several major works of art and he feels compelled to discuss it with her privately. Lindy really outdid herself on this one. It is scorchin. Professor Tae is actually really sweet and somehow that just makes the whole thing hotter.

Akrasia by @nitaescence

This is insanely hot. Emphasis on the insane because it’s basically a super erotic romp where you have sex with a man you don’t know (Taehyung) on a crowded public bus. I literally felt my blood pressure going up the longer I read. Whew.

The Client by @jungkookiebus

This one hit me right in the feels. Taehyung is a sweet and lonely man who has a standing Wednesday appointment with an upscale sex worker. As the story progresses, feelings become involved on both sides. When I say I am checking her page thrice daily for part three... This is so engrossing. And this Tae. I just want to hold him.

Daffodil Dreams by @sombreboy

Tread carefully ladies and gents. This story is excellent, but it is easily the darkest fic on the list and, if you choose to read it, please read the trigger warnings carefully. The reader is a psychologist called in to analyze a very dangerous criminal. As their sessions progress, however, several boundaries are crossed.

Obey by @jjkfire

Taehyung is the most feared and ruthless member of the local mafia and you are the world’s most inept escort. You needed a job, but had no real interest in sex work and you’ve managed to fly under the radar as a glorified waitress until Kim Taehyung himself walks into your agency and decides that you’re the only girl he wants. Oh my gosh I loved this story so much. It was downright amazing and there is a surprise at the end that makes everything even sweeter.

#kim taehyung #bts #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehung fanfiction #viola recommends #fic recs #I CANNOT BELIEVE TUMBLR FORMATTED MY POST SO MY BANNER IS HIDDEN I WANT TO LITERALLY CRY #TUMBLR we are FIGHTING oh my gosh

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feather-dancer · 3 years

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Tales of Arcadia Fanfic Recommendations - Part 6

I do admittedly have things left to read in my tabs I’d normally prefer to clear out before posting one of these but when you sail past the 30 mark I think it’s about time to get it out my drafts, yeah? Most importantly means this will be out before Rise of the Titans comes and emotionally destroys us all.

Needless to say soon as this is posted I give it 24 hours before 7 starts, we’ve got some amazing writers in this fandom and there’s a couple I juuust want one more chapter before I feel I can recommend it. Hope you find something you enjoy :)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here!

General Trollhunters

Romeo, Question Mark - Jim is figuring himself out and has a question for Toby though nervous of how he might react. Honestly the support Aromantic’s need when they’re either questioning or coming out, Toby is a gem.

By The Book - After his dad left changing his world Jim had moments in his life where he needed to wrangle things in a way he could understand them with some moral support along the way that wasn’t there to do it for him, just give a light nudge the right direction. Comes with light Jilaire fluff.

That I Could Fear a Door - Jim was pulled from the Darklands whole but you cannot escape the trauma of your experiences quite so easily. It will take a little time, a lot of patience and perhaps the right ear to listen but with it can come hope.

Lest Back the Awful Door Should Spring - Sequel to the above, Jim’s capture to be sentenced by the tribunal echoes his experiences in the Darklands a little too closely sending all his careful progress hurtling back in one fell swoop. Is it any wonder he chose a false freedom that Unkar offered?

Façade - The confirmation that Mr. Strickler is not the man you thought he was probably was not going to be an easy one, Jim’s thoughts sit ill after that dinner.

Fashion - All changelings take root somewhere in a human life before their changeling one succeeds it and Nomura is no different. She felt love she could not understand and the ache of loss will follow for as she meanders through this world by the Whisper Man’s orders and her own volition of needing to belong somewhere. She will try her hand with the humans and the trolls, paint the road with blood as much as indulging herself with the arts and even risking her heart until everything leads her to Arcadia’s doorstep.

In Deep Trouble - What happened in the Deep during Season 2?

Aftermath - Just after the finale of Season 2 the Market trolls are forced to run leaving their homes behind and follow the Trollhunter they had dismissed so many times into the great unknown before them.

Don’t think - Jim weighs up his options and attempts to settle his thoughts before making the final decision whether or not to go through with using Merlin’s potion.

Nocturne for a Trollhunter - Jim learns a new hobby that gives him another way to relax that doesn’t involve cooking, one that follows him beyond Arcadia.

The Asteroid - A rare 3Below fic for my lists if centered on a certain hedge witch and Wizard. The end of the world is coming but not by Morgana’s hand and Merlin certainly never warned Douxie about it so if this truly is the end then it’s the best time to bring your loved ones close so you won’t be going out alone. Yes it’s Zouxie.

A bright future so it seemed (but that light grew a little less bright) - Claire’s parents (Or more specifically Ophelia) set her on the perfectionist’s path early, even a little slip can feel like the end of the world

Rest, Master Jim - You might be able to escape the Darklands but you cannot escape the consequences of being trapped there for so long as easily.

General Wizards

Not Found - So why did neither Douxie or Archie find the two remaining changelings in Arcadia or bring back the sole Akiridion when Merlin asked?

Place of Power - A lovely bit of shameless Zouxie fluff in that brief period the gang was at Hex Tech before the plot came to get them.

Bitter Water - Only two of the old team remain in Arcadia and those were Jim and Krel, the rest having left to pursue educational pursuits and in one particular case kept away for Nari’s safety. For the Akiridion he is still here with reminders of his heritage and what it took to have this life on earth chasing him all the way. It’s always good to have friends with a listening ear and hot chocolate.

Together, Dearest - The very act of resting is a potential invitation for nightmares and Nari is no different but when once more in the waking world you will find you’re not alone, there are hugs available.

The Night Belongs To Us - Lovingly described Skraelroc fluff during their long hunt for Merlin and the strangeness that can be observed on clearer nights.

Nineteen Plus Nine Hundred, Give Or Take - 900 years is a long time by anyone’s standards but perhaps during that Douxie can figure out how to truly live.

Twelfth Century Wizard, Twenty-First Century Witch - The follow up to the above, when you’ve lived a long and interesting life things can still pop up in odd ways... Even if you haven’t quite mastered the sacred art of texting yet.

ERAS TÚ (It was you). | Tales of Arcadia One-Shot - Would you want to live forever if it meant leaving everyone behind? Jilaire.

the only way for us to go - From his rescue from the streets of Camelot to the eventual guardian of this realm, Douxie has come a very, very long way. Through the frustrations of trying to learn magic, the belittling of others, the faith of Morgana and the power of music his experiences throughout 900 years truly make him what he is.

lay down your head - Even the mightiest can be plagued with the not so humble migraine. Skraelroc fluff.

Stricklake

Merry Christmas, Doctor Lake - Some Christmas gifts are worth going all out for and getting your friends and family to help out to make it extra special.

Grocery Run - After the incident where Merlin dismissed Strickler for being a changeling it is time for an excuse to get out the house for a bit and have a frank discussion about their relationship, the future beyond the incoming battle and lingering insecurities of two worlds colliding.

Alternate Universe

Fashionista, How Do You Look? - An AU that very much takes the term very literally here where everyone is human, Skrael, Bellroc and Nari are fashion designers plus many other ToA characters we know and love are either in the industry in some way themselves or on the fringes because of their jobs/who they know. Sometimes you work with catty bitches and want to kick back and watch the fireworks you know? Contains friends to almost to enemies to friends to maybe we’ll get our shit together this time but the odds aren’t great Skraelroc. There’s also a Zouxie oneshot in this collection that was a gift for meee because of the corner I dug in the AU.

Atlas, Fallen - When a star falls from the sky it is a punishment so when Atlas suddenly finds himself amongst the humans he had observed from above for countless ages in a flesh body like theirs he fears his Mother is punishing him and unable understand what he did wrong. While trying to find his way back home he gets a crash course in what it’s like to be human making friends along the way. Slow burn Jilaire.

she once was a true love of mine - I put this under the AU section even though it wavers between that and not, a mixture of classical Arthurian mythos and the glimpses of the Camelot in Tales of Arcadia where one kingdom collapses from war another strengthens by taking their princess as queen. While Arthur might have turned her head once it is the sibling that seems to be catching Gwen’s eye of late as much as her thoughts. Morgwen but in the department of pining.

Pulled From The Ocean - AU doesn’t quite fit this one but it feels a bit more fitting than general. A little oneshot snapshot of Jim living with deafness and the contrast of one world that falls easily into supporting that whereas the other tries their best but it makes the slip ups sting even more.

you are a stranger here, why have you come? - Fate is a funny old thing, something happens a little bit differently such as a father not leaving alone and everything can change so drastically. Nari’s fondness for children strikes again and this time it involves a 5-year old Jim Lake Jr. ending in the Order’s care and their foray into found family. Somehow Jim is even more of a disaster and as likely surmised from the fact I write this trope myself I am very weak for it.

go into your local forest and you will find a friend and a boy - Toby was unlucky in the friend department and by the time he is ten he still feels miserable and lonely having to endure Steve’s increasing bullying all the while. This is of course until he finds a blue half-troll hiding out the daylight hours munching cans in the local woods...

#trollhunters #3below #Wizards #ToAWizards #Tales of Arcadia

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feralrunaway · 3 years

Text

The Exhibition

Summary: August has an eye for art, and he wants everyone, especially you, to know.

Word Count: 1,040

Warnings: Exhibitionism, D/s dynamics, Thigh riding

A/N: Yep, we’re getting filthy again. As always, please read the warnings. Inspired by the ensuing conversation when I decided to attack @hope-to-hell with more kink. Unbeta’d, unedited.

It’s just a small gathering.

Just a few drinks.

Only a few hours.

You can do this for me darling, can’t you?

————

The room is warm. The lighting tasteful. Classical music spilling quietly over murmured conversations.

August was never one to skimp on the fineries.

The artworks displayed around the room are of exceptional quality, the eyes gracing them appreciative. Discerning.

Champagne bubbles drift languidly up the side of their glass flutes to be sipped during the silences.

A charismatic and gracious host, August takes his time, well-polished shoes moving in the direction of each guest with a predatory grace that only you recognize as such. The quiet, firm baritone of his voice drifts in your direction occasionally, causing minute shivers to move across your skin.

Your eyes remain fixed upon him, despite the many eyes begging for yours to greet them. The soft pillow of your lips stay gently closed, muted to the world. There is only one for whom you would speak, and that, only when you have completed your task.

His icy blue eyes scanning the patrons fall upon the one closest to you, a small, lethal smirk gracing his bewhiskered lips. As he draws near, those eyes drift in your direction as he begins to speak.

“Exquisite, yes?”

A quiet hum of concurrence can be heard to your right. “Quite the centerpiece.”

“The grace in the composure, the perfect curves and lines.”

A nod of assent barely visible in your periphery.

“Tell me, have you ever seen such beauty as the way the light plays off the color of the irises?”

Another guest drifting over, casual and solemn in their appraisal of the sight in front of them. “Diamonds, August?”

The gems waver with the rise and fall of your chest, your only movement under their scrutiny. The necklace feels weighty, even as the rest of your nude form feels as though it might float away under the intense dissemination of his gaze.

“They contrast so nicely don’t they? The play of color reflected against the skin. The uncompromising texture against the softness.”

To guest after guest does he describe the art of your form, the beauty and grace that his vision drinks in. His appraisal so thorough, so intense, that the gathered wetness of your core begins a languid journey down your inner thigh. And all the while you remain still but for the gentle heave of your lungs.

“The curve of the jaw is of particular note to me. Never have I found such distraction in detail. The way it draws the eye down the neck. Almost makes you want to touch. Almost.”

Blissful torture, having him note, elementally, the precise features of your beauty. A study, impersonal to the observing crowd, a mere commentary of a live statue, but not to you. His eyes are pools of dark desire, but they are his only tell.

As the evening draws to a close, your desire for him is burning within you. But you wait.

A lesson in pure discipline of the body, the mind. A deep, soulful urge to see his pleasure in your ability to withstand the waiting, the tension, without breaking.

As the door closes upon the last guest, your heart speeds to a drumbeat within your chest. Quiet footsteps fall on the path to the spot where you stand on display. The final moments of this exquisite, erotic test of your will are blooming.

You keep your body still, despite the anticipation thrumming through your veins. His large frame pressing in close, but not touching, not yet.

“You were perfect, Pet.” And the words whisper over your skin, his fingertips brushing the air above your arms.

“You were so beautiful, and patient.” The barest ghosting of fingers grace the curve of your jaw, that of which he made his appreciation so well known.

“Did you listen when I spoke of your qualities?” And his lips are hovering over your own, his breath fanning across the plump skin, and if you were to tilt your head just so, they would graze together.

His fingers trail their almost-contact down your abdomen, across your thighs.

“How shall I reward you?”

And it’s an exhalation of breath, “Just touch me, please. I need to feel you.”

The final show of your obedience, the demonstration that you have listened all those nights when he uttered Use your words, Pet. It’s the dissolution of his only insecurity, that reassurance that you know to speak up when you need. That you were as desirous of this exhibition as he.

And he utters a growled, “Good girl” and it’s desirous and it’s needy, and then his mouth is devouring yours with passion. His hands come to you heavily, touching and caressing every inch of skin that he spent his evening stoically admiring.

He’s hitching your legs around his hips, with intent to carry you away to the bedroom. But you’re both too far gone in the desire built up from the teasing and the yearning created by the invisible wall of observation.

So he’s pressing you bodily against the wall, his groin against yours as your lips and tongues make up for lost hours. He tastes of champagne and sin and the heady mix is causing you to lose yourself in the tempestuous need for closeness.

And he senses this, sliding you down and pressing a thigh between your legs, the warm wetness of your core staining his trousers. The hitch of your hips has him pressing you down, encouraging you to take what you need.

“Yes, Pet. Right here. I want you to make yourself come for me.” And with his broad frame pressing you to the architecture, you do just that. Undulations of your hips bring you to the brink, and he’s merely supporting, watching with eyes that drink in every delicious movement. A cry and a gasp and you’re left trembling, grinding out the final waves of euphoria against his broad thigh.

“And that, my darling, is one more color of the indelible ink of your beauty.”

And when he carries you the rest of the way to the room, you determine yourself to show him just what a work of art he is himself.

—————

Jan 26, 2021

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#august walker #smut

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stellarboystyles · 4 years

Text

serendipity

ahhhh she’s finally done!! now i can rest my weary soul. thank you to my lover @bfharry for putting this lovely event together, and i’m sorry this late, i’m a mess.

7k pining, fluff and smut

friends to lovers college au // trigger warning - mentions of illness, family death and childhood trauma, mentions of alcohol use.

She was reaching as high as she could, desperately trying to get to the book on the shelf that was much too high for her to reach. She turns to Harry, who’s smirking down at her with crossed arms.

“Need a lift, sprout?”

She gives him a look of eloquence. “Please.”

She giggles as he dips down, wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up. Now, she’s happily at eye level with the desired shelf.

Her fingers skimming over the spines of all the hardbacks sitting comfortably on the wood surface. E...F...G...H...

“Found it!”

Once her eyes lock on the title, she pulls the book out as fast as she could.

“Okay, let me down.”

“Sure? Don’t like the view from up there? Know you’re not used to it-”

“No, now let me down before I bruise you like the peach that you are.”

“Ouch.” he snickered, setting you back down onto the ground beneath. “S’harsh.”

“Deserved it.” she teased before he sticks out his tongue in a playful response.

“What d’ya need the book for?”

“It’s for that analysis we have to do for poetry class.”

He blinks at her once, eyes widening slightly. “What analysis?”

She giggles at his expression. “You didn’t read your emails, did you?”

“Fuck!” he exclaims, voice slightly above a whisper, but it was enough to agitate the other students in the library who are trying to either study or get their own work done.

“Shhh!”

“Sorry, sorry.” he apologizes to the people around them before Y/N puts a hand on his bicep and he leans into her to hear her whispering words.

“You just have to pick a poetry book, analyze it, make a conclusion, all that stuff.”

“So it’s like an essay?”

“Kind of.” she follows Harry as he starts to examine the shelves for a book himself. “You know how Greene is, he’s super chill. He wants it to be more of a review, what you think of the book and the author.”

“So, like a review.”

She blinks at him. “That’s what I just said.”

“M’tired, gimme a break.” he sighs. “He never challenges us in that class.”

“I guess not.” she shrugs. “Easy grade, right?”

“Sounds like it.” he gives a casual nod. “When’s it due?”

“Tuesday.”

“Sweet.” he nods, eyes skimmed across the shelves before landing on a cornflower blue hardback. Harry chose books by their cover a lot. Not metaphorically, just literally.

“Ready?”

He nods again. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Once they’d both gotten their book signed out, they started down the path across the patch of grass, making their way to their next class that they had together.

“So you really didn’t check your phone all weekend?”

He shakes his head. “No, my phone was off ‘cos Gem was visiting over the weekend, remember?” he taps on the side of her head with one finger. “Helloooo, earth to Y/N, you were there.”

“Quit it!” she scolds, swatting his hand away. “Yeah, I think I remember her. She’s the least annoying Styles’ sibling, right?”

Harry unexpectedly clutches his chest, wincing in pain. “Ouch, ow!”

Panic rushed through her, the first thing popping into her mind was that he was having an asthma attack. “Haz, are you okay?” she drops her bag onto the ground so that she can help him. “You’re scaring me, do you need your inhaler?”

He leans over, eyes squeezed closed. One hand is resting on his knee, the other still grasping at his sternum.

“My ego...it hurts.”

As soon as the words registered, anger washed over her, jaw rippling before punching him in the bicep.

“You’re such a little shit.”

“Oi, tha’ hurt!” he laughs, which makes her even more angry, whisking her bag off the ground and walking away from him as quickly as possible.

He lets out a lighthearted sigh before starting to jog up to her. “C’mon, wait up.”

“Go away.” she grumbles, quickening the pace of her steps towards the building that their next class was in. Her hand was less than a foot away from reaching the door, about to push it open but she was no match for his longer legs as he jogged to catch up with her.

“Hey, hey.” he manages to get her hand in his grasp. She turns around in his grip, eyes fiery with vex.

“What.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” he frowns, moving so that he’s holding both of her hands in his as he stood in front of her. “Please? M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the brick wall behind her. “Yes you did.”

“Let me make it up to you?” he offers, resting his palm on the rough surface above her head.

“Whatever you want.”

The pounding heartbeat in her ears is deafening, but the prank that he’d just pulled wasn’t quickly forgotten.

“I’ll let you know when I think of something.” Pushing herself off the wall, she turns and pushes the door open to the classroom, leaving a sad Harry behind. He trudged along behind her, silently moping before sitting next to her. Not even a minute after they sat down, Harry was leaning over to her, trying to get her attention.

“Y/N, please.” he whines, laying his head on her shoulder. “M’sorry.”

The butterflies in her stomach were crumbling her resolve, and she lays her cheek on top of his curls. “It’s okay.” he can hear the smile in her quiet voice. He peers up at her, an endearing smile beaming back at her.

“Not mad at me anymore?” he clarifies, voice filled with hope.

“How long have we been best friends?” she laughs. “Y’know I can never stay mad at you.”

“We were babies, don’t you remember?” he snickers. “Like, actual babies.”

Neither of them really remember.

Harry and Y/N’s parents had been neighbors and friends for years before either of them were born, and when Harry was almost two, they’d given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

“Harry, look.” Anne coos to her son as he sits on her lap. “See the baby?”

He stops playing with his teddy, toddling over to the sound of his mummy’s voice and he’s so fascinated, probably because he’s never seen a real baby before.

“I hold her?”

The new mum says “of course” before she gives her baby to Anne, now holding her in Harry’s lap.

“I pet?”

He carefully lifts a chubby hand, places it on her tummy and pats gently at the pale lavender onesie.

“My sweet boy.” Anne kisses the top of his head, smoothing out his blonde bangs.

Harry leans down and pushes a soft kiss onto her cheek, and it’s safe to say both mums melt at the sight.

“They’ll be best friends for sure.”

He looks up at the baby’s mum. “She seepin’?”

She nods with a smile. “Yeah, she's sleepin’.”

He gives her another kiss on her cheek before speaking again, this time in a hushed voice.

“Night Night, baby.”

“Our mums are never gonna let us forget that day.” he groans, twisting open the cap of the drink in his hands.

“Or that you had a crush on me.”

He nearly chokes on his juice, making her split into a fit of giggles.

“Maybe I did.” he admits, leaning his elbows onto the desk. “So what?”

“You definitely did, remember when you kissed me?”

His cheeks heat up at her teasing, arms crossing on top of the desk before laying his head down in embarrassment. He cracks one eye open at her laughing. “y/nnnn.”

When Harry was five and Y/N was four, he asked if he could kiss her, at school.

“You’re the prettiest girl in the whole world.” Harry tells her as his fingers draw in the dirt.

“That’s what my mummy and daddy tells me!” she cheers, and he may only be five years old but he knows that no other girl on the playground would happily sit in the dirt with him like she would. Her cheeks are resting against her hands and Harry thinks that they’re the cutest cheeks he’s ever seen.

“Can we kiss now?”

She thinks for a moment before speaking.

“You can’t tell your mummy, because she might tell my mummy and we’ll be in trouble.”

“Won’t tell anyone, not even Niall.”

Her eyes go wide with a gasp. Niall was his best friend, he must really mean business.

“Really?”

“Promise.” he holds out his pinky for her to squeeze.

Unfortunately for them, while Y/N was over next door at Harry’s for a playdate Anne caught them kissing in the back garden and they were both forced into the friend zone. Y/N was super sad, and Harry didn’t like that one bit, so he tried to make her feel better.

“Don’t cry, someday when we’re grown ups we can kiss and hold hands anytime we want! We can be best friends ‘til then, okay?”

“The start of an epic friendship.” he reminisces, flashing her a wink.

“Good times and bad.” she nods, and the mood drifts to sad silence.

“We’ve really been there through everything, huh?” he acknowledges, meeting her gaze.

When Harry was twelve and Y/N was eleven, Harry’s dad left. Left his family with nothing and Harry was devastated.

“How could he? This isn’t fair to any of you.”

Y/N was standing in Anne’s kitchen listening to her painstakingly tell her what had just happened. He’d left while Anne was working and Gemma and Harry were at school, leaving the remainder of the family devastated.

“I know darling, but we’ll get through this. I’m worried about Harry, he ran off. He was so upset. Do you know where he could be?”

“I’ll find him.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her mind and legs worked together to pedal faster than she ever had before through the park behind their street. As soon as she crosses the bridge she sees him. He’s sitting under their favorite oak tree, knees dew up to his chest.

“Harry!”

She throws her bike down and sprints to him, falling next to him.

He looks up, releases the grip on his hair and reaches out, grasping her hands and she quickly pulls him into a hug and she’d never held anyone so tight in her entire life. Her own hot tears started to fall from her face at the sound of his heartbreaking cries and she doesn’t know how long they stayed there like that, slowly moving her fingers through his curls as she held him. He let out a whimper when she forced his face out of her neck, cradling his cheeks in her hands. He looked so defeated and she had to use every ounce of strength in her body not to sit there and cuddle him against this tree all night. His mum and sister needed him, and he needed them. Her fingers brushed across his wet cheeks and he leaned into her touch as she repeated the action.

“I’m so sorry, Haz.” another sob escapes him at her words. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can cry, scream and yell, whatever you want...but we gotta get home., it’s getting dark.”

“Don’t wanna go back there.” he shakes his head and tightens his hold on your shirt.

“H, your mum and sister need you, and you need them.”

“I need you.”

Y/N’s heart flutters and she’s not sure why, but she’s sure Harry can feel it because he’s still fisting her shirt.

“I’ll stay the night at yours, my mum won’t care.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’ll get over it.”

Understandably, of course her father wasn’t too fond of the idea of his daughter sleeping over at her best friend’s house, because he was a boy. But she reassured her dad countless times that “boys were gross” so he begrudgingly allowed it.

They’d cuddled countless times, that night was no different. She held him, stroking his hair some more as they talked. The mood is lightened after awhile. Even though the healing process hasn’t even really begun yet. Harry was gonna be okay, because he had Y/N.

“Gemma gets so jealous because she can’t have boys in her room.” he jokes, making her giggle.

“She’s also fifteen and has a boyfriend.” she reasons. “We’re just best friends.”

“True.”

Comfortable silence engulfed Harry’s room for a few moments, the vibe was mellow from each other’s presence before Y/N spoke again.

“It’s gonna be okay.” her voice was barely above a whisper, brushing the stray hairs away from his forehead.

“You don’t know that.” he whispers, peering up at her. The moonlight shining through the window is enough to illuminate their faces while they talk.

“Yeah I do.” she argues softly. “It’s bad right now, but it’ll be okay someday. Promise.”

When Y/N was seventeen, her world came crashing down.

“Harry, can you come down please?”

He quickly put down his phone, shoving it into his pocket when he heard the urgency in his mum’s voice coming from downstairs. Ever since his dad left he’d grown closer to his mum and sister, more protective.

He rushes downstairs, finding her in the kitchen.

“Mum? What's wrong?”

“I need you to go next door and check on Y/N, alright?”

His face fills with confusion and fear but Anne doesn’t give him any time to respond.

“I just got off the phone with Rachelle, she and Will had gone out to dinner and he started to have some terrible pain. They’re at the hospital now, they did some tests…they found something and they think it might be cancer.”

Harry’s face falls.

“Oh God, Mum—”

“I know, baby, I know.”

“Does she know? She had to work after school today, does she know?”

“Her mum said she was going to call her once she’d gotten home from work.”

“She gets off at eight thirty,” he pulls out his phone and sees that it’s nine fifteen. “She should be home by now.” He briskly walks over to the window that faces Y/N’s house.

“Her car’s there.” he reveals. “M’goin’ over there. I’ll be back.”

She agrees and without another word Harry’s at her front door.

Locked.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mutters to himself before remembering the spare key under the flower pot by the door. Once it’s retrieved, his trembling hands fumble with the piece of metal before successfully unlocking the door and pushing it open. As soon as he’s inside, he hears muffled crying from upstairs and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s rushing upstairs and down the hall to her bedroom. Normally he would never just walk in her room uninvited, but when he saw the white wooden door decorated with silver stars all over, he wasn’t going to stop until he got to her. As soon as he pushes her bedroom door open, the sight alone is enough to make him cry. He watches her yank her desk chair out, screaming as she throws it as hard as she could across the floor.

“Y/N!”

He rushes to her, pulling her in the most protective hug he’s ever given. Her arms retreated to frightfully gripping the front of his shirt, knees buckling. They ended up crumpled on the floor, backs against the wall as he held her. Her gut wrenching cries were hushed by Harry’s embrace.

“Hey, hey—shhh. M’here, look at me, okay? Deep breaths, breathe with me, okay?”

“I can’t, it’s too much. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.” her cries made his heart ache, all he wanted to do was make it better, but he just couldn’t.

Needless to say, they’ve been there for each other through everything. Y/N’s dad passed away later that year, leaving everyone devastated. Harry waited a year to go to college to be there for Y/N and her mum.

“Are you excited for NYU?”

She tried to sound happy for him, but her voice was laced with sadness. His back was facing her so she couldn’t see his face as he glanced at the sunset out her window.

“M’not going.” he admits, voice small and her jaw goes slack.

“What? What d’you mean you’re not going?”

“Can’t leave you two here like this.” he turns around and tears are brimming his waterline. “Already talked it over with mum, and the bakery’s not really willin’ t’let me go yet.”

“Harry.” she warns.

“Hey,” it’s alright.” he pulls her into a protective hug. “We’ll get everything sorted out, okay? It’ll be nice to take a year off from school anyway.”

His lighthearted tone isn’t enough to soothe her anxiety. “You don’t have to put your life on hold for me.”

“I’m not.” he promises. “We’ve been there for each other through everything, yeah?” he pulls away slightly, giving her a warm smile. “That doesn’t just stop because we aren’t kids anymore.”

“We make a good team.”

Her words warm his heart and he turns to her, nodding with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, we do, don’t we?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Her.

Admire her.

Tell her how the crinkles in her eyes are like crescent moons, glowing when she smiles.

Watch how she giggles at your jokes that aren’t funny, and how coy she gets when you’re sweet with her.

She couldn’t help but get lost in books like this. Somehow they managed to capture everything she’s ever been through, and everything she’s struggling with now. It was torture, really, being in love with her best friend, seeing him everyday, hiding her feelings from him in fear of their friendship being ruined forever. She couldn’t even fathom if that horror were to become her reality, she surely wouldn’t survive the heartbreak.

Touch her.

Tell her that the stretch marks that paint her skin are magnificent, and that her body is just one dazzling part of who she is.

Snuggle her with tender touches and soft fingertips, love on every curve of her body.

She found herself daydreaming at times like this—the midday sun beaming down on her through the window of the library as she sat in one of the lounge chairs, reading one of her favorite poetry books. She would think about how Harry would touch her if she were his. How he would caress her skin, what his lips could do, where his hands would go.

Adore her.

Cherish her.

Her reading was quickly interrupted, her vision obstructed by a pair of hands covering her eyes followed by a familiar voice.

“Guess who.”

“Uh...Bigfoot?”

“Heeeey.” he protests, moving to sit in the lounge chair next to hers. “S’mean.”

She giggles at his pouting, squeezing one of his cheeks. “Poor baby.”

“Ouch.” he brought his hand up to his face to rub the sore skin. “Like beatin’ up on me, do yeh?”

“Just a little.” she winks.

“Yeah, yeah.” he playfully rolls his eyes before turning his attention to the book in his best friend’s hands. “Whatcha readin’?”

Her heartbeat quickened as she realised that she had been caught, swiftly shutting the book and tucking it into her bag. “Nothing.”

“Nooo, lemme see!”

He didn’t give her another chance to respond, knowing her all too well. She shied away from his words, cheeks splashing with pink.

“C’mon, pleeease?” he frowns, nudging her arm with his elbow. He notices her apprehension, not wanting to push her.

“S’just me.”

His voice is softer, giving her a fluttering feeling as he leans in closer. “Y’trust me, right?”

The close proximity made her heart thump in her chest. She gives him a slight nod before quietly replying. “Yeah.”

He gently bites down on his lower lip, his eyes flickering from her eyes, down to her lips.

Were they going to kiss?

“Why won’t you tell me what you were readin’?” he quirks with a small smile, tilting his head slightly. You can see the wheels turning. “S’it naughty?”

“No!” she gives him a look, as if to say stooooop, Haz.

He chuckles at her nervousness, patiently waiting as she keeps fumbling over her words, avoiding his captivating eyes. “No...no, no, it’s a...it’s just a book.”

“Obviously.” he blinks. “What kind of book.”

“Just poetry.” she mumbles, hoping he would drop the subject quickly.

“S’it for your poetry analysis thing? What kind of—”

“Harryyyyy.” she whines, hiding her face in her hands.

“M’not doin’ anything! Can’t I be interested in what you’re readin’?” he defends, resting his cheek in his hand, elbow leaning on the arm of the chair.

“M’only teasing.” he swipes his fingers across her heated cheeks as he speaks softly to her. “You’re bein’ so shy.”

It’s so adorable, he thinks to himself.

“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.” he reassures. “M’starving. Did you still wanna go to lunch?”

She perked up at his question, the book in her bag eventually forgotten, just as she wished. “Please, I’m so hungry.”

“Can we get—”

“Chinese?” his face lights up. “Please please please?”

“We had that last weekend.”

“So? S’the best food ever, and since when do you turn down chinese food?” he rests his head on the table. “I’ll help you with French Lit.”

“Compelling argument, I didn’t know you were taking a debate class.”

“So funny.” he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, please?”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

“I love chow mein so much.”

Y/N’s words barely register in his ears, let alone his brain as he admired the sight of her, eyes closed in bliss as she slurps another noodle.

She’s just so fucking cute.

“I love you so much.”

“What?”

He’s sure his heart had just dropped into his stomach and his eyes were going to pop out of his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud!

“Didn’t say anything.” he mumbles, mentally cursing himself after feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks. He avoids her gaze as he shoves another spoonful of hot and sour soup into his mouth.

“So how’s your story for creative writing going?” she wonders, twirling some noodles with her fork, because no, she didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and yes, Harry never missed an opportunity to tease her about it.

“Awful.” he pouts, to which she mirrors his expression.

“You stuck?”

“Very.” he groans. “Just can’t seem to get the words out, y’know?”

“I’ve been there.” she nods. “Do you want some help?”

“Please.” he begged, giving her puppy eyes. “S’due next friday, been workin’ on it every night and still can’t get a single word out.”

“I think you just need to take a break, babes.” she offers. “Let’s have a sleepover this weekend and I’ll help you.”

He gives a sigh of relief, making her laugh. “You’re a gem. What would I do without you?”

“Your life would definitely be less exciting.” she notes, taking another bite.

He was silent for a moment, probably thinking of a comeba—

“At least I know how to use chopsticks.”

“You won’t teach me!” she pouts at his teasing. “Quit being mean.”

“Want me to teach you?” he perks, peering up at her.

“Yes.” she lets out a breathless giggle while nodding.

He playfully huffs, slightly rolling his eyes as he moves to sit behind her on her bed.

“Okay, so you hold them like this…”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary,

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him. I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend? Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his. How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much. Sometimes I feel like I should just tell him, bite the bullet, rip off the band aid and hope to God that our friendship isn’t ruined forever. In a perfect world,

Y/N drops her pen at the vibration of her phone.

Harry is calling…

“Hello?”

“We’ve known each other for how long and you still answer with hello?”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you having a bad day or are you just making fun of me for shits and giggles?”

“Lil bit of both, yeah?” she can hear the cheekiness in his voice. “We still havin’ a sleepover this weekend? Might have to do it at yours, Niall’s havin’ a party and I doubt we’ll get anything done.”

She could hear the sheepish tone in his voice. “Oh no, if you wanna be at the party we can totally reschedule.” she offers.

Harry scrunches up his nose. “Need to get this paper done, m’never gonna finish it with all the noise.” he’s lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Besides, I’d rather spend the weekend with you.”

She feels her heart flutter at his admission, cheeks tingling with heat.

“ Okay...can you bring some snacks?”

There were no two humans on earth that loved fruit more than Harry and Y/N. so around fifteen minutes later, when Harry showed up to Y/N’s door with two smoothies, she melted like sugar.

“Berry for you.” he hands you the icy purple smoothie in his left hand. “Strawberry banana for me.”

“Awh, thank you!” she gently pinches one of his cheeks. “You’re so sweet.”

“Oi, worse than my mum, aren’t you?” he rubs at the newly pink cheek.

“No.” she defends. “C’mon, I’ll help you with your story so you don’t drag it out all weekend.”

“I resent that.” he mutters, sitting beside her on her bed as he flips open his laptop.

“Do you have an idea of what you wanna write?”

“I have a little bit finished, now, about five thousand words. Wanna have a look?”

Y/N reads it over and it’s nothing short of a masterpiece so far. How can he be so pretty and talented at the same time?

“This is beautiful,” she gapes, turning to look up at him. “This is so good, H.”

“Oh, stop.” He sheepishly brushes off her praise. “Don’t think it’s bad so far, just need to come up with a conflict.”

“Just figure out what breaks your characters, what makes them the most vulnerable, what would completely crush them?”

“Losing each other.”

“More specific?” she tries, staring at the screen in front of her. “It’ll help with the details.”

“Rory’s afraid to tell Daisy that he’s in love with her.” he says. “He’s afraid that, if she finds out, it’ll ruin their friendship.”

Y/N’s lungs felt empty, like all the air had been sucked out by Harry’s words.

“Okay, um,” she gulps, trying to collect her thoughts. “So...write about that, and see where the story takes you.”

Three hours later

“Can we take a break?” he groans, laying back on the pillows of her bed. “M’starving.”

“Me too.” she pouts, fiddling with her hands. “Whatcha hungry for?”

“Mmm,” Harry thinks for a few moments before speaking up. “A veggie grill just opened up downtown, we should go there!”

“You’re making me crave nachos.”

“You always crave nachos.”

“Why do you always have to call me out?” she whines, giving him a bashful glance.

“S’fun, innit?” he smirks, nudging her shoulder with his bicep.

“No.” she giggles, lying down next to him. “I’m gonna go get a shower then we can go.”

“Okay.”

An endearing smile adorned his face as she snuggled slightly into the soft pillows. Her eyes leisurely blink at him, falling closed after a few seconds.

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.”

“Thought you wanted a shower?” he hummed. Although, he wouldn’t mind staying here all night. “You can stay here, I’ll go pick up some food.”

“No, it’s okay.” she yawns, pushing herself up off the bed. “I’ll be quick.”

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Harry gets bored easily, although his best friends room was much more lovely than his. He thinks his room is pretty basic; but Y/N’s room was much more charming. The walls were painted a pale ivory, decorated with fairy lights above her bed, which was dressed with a crisp white comforter and matching pillows. The knitted plum blanket that Harry had gotten her ages ago for Christmas was at the end of her bed. He vividly remembers when he had given it to her.

Her eyes were sparkling with joy as she pulled the blanket out of the box.

“Your mum helped me make it.” he mentions with a sheepish smile. “She was so patient, even though I had no idea what I was doing.”

“It’s beautiful.” she beams, pulling it close to her heart before looking up at him as they sat on the floor of Harry’s living room. “I love it.”

He gives her a soft smile, but he feels melancholic energy surrounding him. He keeps telling himself that he didn’t have a reason to be sad, because they weren’t together...but all he wanted was for her to be his. She was so cute, beanie snug on her head under the glow of the Christmas tree.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

To which she nods. “Of course.”

“Do you think,” his lips are pressed together in thought for a moment. “Do you think that fate is real?”

“Like kismet?” she cocks her head with a smile and he nods, breaking into a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, like kismet.”

“I think,” she takes a moment, fumbling with her hands before looking up at him. “Yeah, I think it’s real.”

Ten thousand words. Harry has to write ten thousand words by next Friday and he doesn’t have a single word typed out. Creative writing was supposed to be fun, and he had to write a romance fiction piece? Harry didn’t exactly thrive when it came to love. In fact, his love life was bone dry, to put it lightly. Other girls were...boring, compared to Y/N. Harry was charming and romantic and sweet and loving—but he didn’t want some random girl, he wanted Y/N to be his girl. Pining over her was his full time job, always has been.

He walks over to her desk, admiring the pictures that graced the wall just above. One of the photos that catches his eye is Y/N, probably about three or four, and her dad is reading her a bedtime story, her mum most likely being the one taking the photo. Sorrow washes over him, because it never gets easier, does it?

His eyes float to a few photos of Harry and Y/N laying next to each other on their friend Jess’s parents house on the terrace. It was the first time they’d ever gotten drunk and they were trashed. The first photo is them attempting to sit up for a picture.

“You guys are so drunk.”

“M’not drunk.” Harry glances at Millie and Jess, who were behind the camera. “M’Harry! Who’s drunk?”

Harry’s rebuttal left both of them bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Haz, Jess wants a picture of us, pleeeeaaaase?”

Harry holds himself up by leaning back with one hand on the ground, the other arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder. He then turns to nuzzle his nose into her hair.

“Y’so pretty.” he murmurs drunkenly into her ear.

“Shut up, you’re drunk.”

“M’not, m’serious.”

The last one from that night was them cuddling on the sofa at the end of their night, Harry’s face nuzzled into her shoulder as they slept soundly well into the afternoon.

His fingertips brushed across his favorite photo of them. They were working together at the bakery, and Harry had just traced his flour dipped fingertips in a line across Y/N’s cheek before she retaliated by sweeping some icing across the bridge of his nose. He grins from ear to ear at the memory.

“Hey Y/N, guess what?”

She turned around to face him when he abruptly drew a line with his flour dipped fingertips across her cheek.

Her jaw went slack at his bold action before icing was swiped across the bridge of his nose.

“Now we’re even.” that is, until she flicks some of the remaining blue icing from her fingers onto his face.

“Aw, c’mon!” he wipes his face with his apron before narrowing his eyes. “Really?”

“You started it.” she pointed out and Harry gave her a shrug.

“I am so gonna get you back the next time we bake at my house.”

His eyes fall down to her desk, and he promises he didn’t mean to see it. It was his name, in her handwriting, written in purple gel pen inside an open book. Was it a journal?

Friday, October 12

Dear Diary,

Shit.

He looked away for a moment, lip caught between his teeth. Should he read it? No, but he couldn’t help himself.

I feel like I’m going crazy. I keep trying to finish this story for my creative writing class but I keep getting distracted...all I can think about is him.

Him? Who’s she talking about? Does she like someone? The empty feeling in his chest isn’t a good feeling by any means.

I can’t help it, he’s all I ever think about. How am I supposed to write a romance fiction piece when all I can think about is how I’m in love with my best friend?

All the color drains from Harry’s face.

“Is she talking about me?” he murmurs.

Harry is charming and sweet and funny and genuine, any girl would be lucky to be his.

His heart flutters at the mention of his name, aching at the next line.

How did I get myself into this mess? Harry would never like me like that, ever. My heart hurts if I think about it too much.

He felt like he was going to cry. How could this girl not know how much of a sucker he is for her? His heart thumped inside his chest and he could feel the heat radiating off his flushed cheeks.

Okay, don’t panic. Just calm down, don’t freak out.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he had just read whilst trying to decide what to do. Does he just tell her? Show her the page? No, she’ll be so angry that he read her diary, who does that?

In that moment, he chooses to do the only thing that makes sense.

He listens to his heart.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

She’d just hopped out of the shower when she heard a knock on her bathroom door.

“Hey, s’just me.” Harry’s voice clarifies through the wood. “Already ordered some food, m’gonna go and pick it up, I’ll be back.”

“I can go with you if you want-”

“No, s’okay! Be back in fifteen.”

And he’s gone.

After exiting her bathroom, she changes into some comfy clothes before deciding to read something from her book collection until Harry gets back. WHen she turns to go over to her bookshelves, she sees it.

A familiar lavender book, her diary, was lying open on her desk, and her heart sinks. Had he read what she’d written earlier? That must be why he was in such a hurry to leave! She probably scared him off. Y/N’s heart was racing as she stepped closer and realised that the page the diary was open to wasn’t written in her handwriting.

It was Harry’s handwriting.

Hi lovie, it’s Harry.

I was too nervous to tell you this to your face, so I’m gonna write out my feelings.

You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I absolutely adore everything about you.

I love how you talk in your sleep, and yes, you do talk in your sleep. I know how much you love to snuggle when you’re sleepy or sad or you just want a cuddle...and how you still sleep with a night light on like when we were small. You always tell me it’s so you can see in case you need to get up and have a wee in the middle of the night, but I know it’s because you’re still scared of the dark.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was she dreaming?

I love how you crinkle your nose when you laugh, and how your smile glows like moonlight and how you play with your hands when you don’t know what to say. I love your love for books, and how much better your taste in music is than me. I love how you love to snuggle, especially when you’re...inebriated.

She giggles silently to herself, because he was so right. Not that he was any better.

I could go on forever, but I don’t wanna get caught writing this.

I am so in love with you, Y/N.

Love, H. x

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. Her heart was warm, but she was so nervous. What does this mean for them? How will this affect their friendship? Hundreds of questions run through her brain until she hears a knock on the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” she whispers. “Okay, just... be chill, please be chill.”

Trying to calm herself down in a matter of seconds was pointless. Walking over to the door, she took a deep breath in before opening the door.

“Hi.” he blinks at her, letting out a light laugh before setting down the two paper bags in his hands. “M’back. They didn’t have the-”

“I read it.”

He avoids her gaze and he feels frozen by her words, digging his vans into the carpet.

“Harry.” she breathes. “Say something.”

His eyes flicker to meet hers, taking a step forward.

“I...I love you.”

Y/N feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest, like she just came for air after being kept under water for too long.

“If this makes things weird, I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, but I love you to pieces and I-”

“I love you too.”

His smile is pure joy before he takes her hand in his, pulling her closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” he begs, almost breathless. “Please.”

She nods, and he cradles her cheeks in his hands, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

His lips were so soft, moving with hers like they were made for each other.

Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs straddling his hips and she sat across his lap. Her hands were in his hair, the fluttery tendrils twirled around her fingers. His hands are settled on her waist, slowly moving to her thighs.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs the serious question against her lips and she nods quickly. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” he breathes. “M’just checkin’.”

“It’s okay.” she laughs breathlessly against his lips. “Everything's okay.”

Reluctantly, he pulls back slightly to look at her, searching for any sort of doubt, but there was none.

“Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

His voice is cautious. “M’not goin’ anywhere, ever. Don’t have to rush anything.”

“Just go with the flow, H.” she murmurs, sliding her hands up his clothed biceps.

“Sorry, who are you?” he raises his eyebrows, a baffled expression on his face. “Since when do you ever go with the flow?”

“A lot of things have changed today.” she confesses, hands resting on his shoulders. “Why not?”

They’d always felt so safe with each other, so now was no different.

They both dived back into the kiss. Harry’s tongue swiped across her bottom lip, testing the waters before lips and tongue worked together to deepen the kiss.

“Wanna ride my thigh?” he wonders, mumbling against her lips. “Don’t have to if-”

“Yeah. yes.” she gulps, moving to slide her shorts down while he shuffles out of his jeans. Once they were both without pants, they didn’t waste anymore time.

“C’mere, darlin’.” he flicked his fingers, encouraging her back onto his lap.

“Just feel my touch.”

The tone of his voice was unbelievably hot, raspy and low as their lips continuously brushed. His hands grip her hips, guiding her movements.

“Feel good?” he suckles on her bottom lip, drawing a whimper past her lips. She’s rocking against his bare thigh, coarse hair stimulating her even closer to the edge.

“Feels so good, Harry.”

Her moans are nothing short of melodic, chasing her orgasm through the lace. He pushes her t-shirt up, kisses are decorated down her neck until his mouth is on one of her breasts. She tilts her head back at the suckling sensation with another moan, and it’s so fucking intoxicating to Harry. His tongue flicks her nipple a few more times before lifting his head.

“Like that?” he hums, moving to cup her breasts. She nods and his thumbs start to tweak her nipples and she arches her back at the feeling.

“Harry.” she whimpers, gripping the material of his shirt in her fists. “Please.”

“Whatcha need, tell me darlin’.”

“M’gonna come, m’gonna come.”

He gives a thick moan, hands moving to hold her backside. “Know you are. C’mon angel, you can let go.”

His sweet words coax her through her orgasm as she’s coming down, and she feels like she’s floating.

“Did you like that?”

“Mhm.” she nods, her eyes fluttering closed as Harry’s hand brushes some baby hairs off her forehead. “Wanna keep going.”

“Jeez, at least let me take you out to dinner first.”

#boyfriendathon #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut

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sp00kymulderr · 3 years

Text

eupnea (Ezra x Reader)

Warnings: Just sickeningly sweet fluff, no plot. Kissing.

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,902

Request: once upon a time @goldafterglow sent me an ask that just said “Hi the only! thing! I can think about right now is nuzzling Ezra’s tummy and making him giggle because he is a sweet good boy with a soft tum and he deSeRVES IT PLS SOMEONE NUZZLE HIS TUM OR I’LL RIOT” and I took it and ran with it, in a completely different direction.

A/N: Ok so there is tummy nuzzling in this but it’s not the main feature of the fic, but I did fit it in. Hands up if you would also really like to be nuzzling Ezra’s soft little tum right now.

Like a moth to the flame, unable to resist his radiance, you were drawn to Ezra from the very beginning.

When you had met, you working mechanics for a contract while he was there to dig, you didn’t really believe in love. Certainly not love at first sight, true love, soulmates. None of those old fairy tales your mother told you growing up. You hadn’t felt it before, never needed anyone in that way.

But then there was Ezra and you felt struck by lightning.

Even when he put on a show to the others of being the intimidating vagrant fringeling only looking to make credit, you saw straight through it. He was more, had so much to him. His presence thrilled you, made your blood pump like molten liquid through your veins, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

And oh, Ezra was resplendent. When he smiled it warmed every cold part of your being, his laugh lighting up the bleak constant dark of the planet you were stationed on. Beautiful too. Like none before him, there was no hope for you. From those shining, wide eyes to his striking nose, the unusual patch of blonde at the front of his soft head of hair to the small silvered scar below one eye. You never wanted to look upon another face again.

He felt it too. Desperate with it, seeking you out at each opportunity. Spending hours in your tent just talking, him with that sticky sweet voice and words spilling from him like honey from the jar. You swapped stories of life on the fringe and futures you could barely let yourself imagine. Quickly overcome with longing - lingering gazes and grazing hands, hiding away together with your fingers interlaced and your hearts becoming ever more entangled.

And yes he admit to you he had a past, and he was certainly not faultless, but you understood that beyond anything else he was a man with true heart. Genuine and kind where it mattered despite everything, despite the pain you saw in him that he tried so hard to hide. Despite growing up in a world so unforgiving, where he had quickly learnt to be cunning and devious to survive. He hadn’t let his lot in life completely determine his humanity.

You loved him more with every new part of himself that he revealed to you.

With Ezra, it was immediately like all the little pieces of life's puzzle were put together. It all made sense. Everything. It was the most powerful thing you had ever experienced. You both knew, from the very beginning, this thing between you was life-changing. Nothing would pull you apart.

***

After that contract had ended you decided to stay together, impossible to part when you dreamt only of each other.

And now in what feels like a different lifetime, you are settled. A particularly fortuitous dig with enough successfully mined aurelac to fill several cases and only one barely escaped ambush had left you both with enough credits that you could actually find a home, a comfortable cabin tucked away in beautiful unspoilt forest, this place is for the two of you and no one else. Having somewhere the two of you could call home felt like the most beautiful luxury you could imagine.

To begin with you had been concerned that Ezra would regret his decision, you understood his need to rest a while now that he could - you were both so weary, had both been through so much in this life. But he was so accustomed to being constantly on the move, not staying in the same place for long enough to call it home. Part of you fearing he would come to resent you for tying him down to this place, this quiet life, you.

The look on his face now though tells you clearly that he is perfectly content.

You rest together on the plush, comfortable couch – your head in his lap as he absent-mindedly brushes his fingers against your jaw with a lazy smile. He glows; rested and nourished, well fed and well loved, and your heart swells with pride to know that is your doing – that you had in hand in renewing a tired spirit. A slow tune drifts through the air from the crackly old speakers on the opposite side of the room, and you close your eyes as you sing along in a happy daze.

“My beautiful little songbird” he chuckles as the music fades out leaving you singing on your own, and when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with the kind of adoration that takes your breath away each time. He loves you so deeply, so fierce and yet gently. Even after years he holds you like you are something more brilliant than any gem he ever pulled from the ground.

“You’re the beautiful one” you murmur, reaching up to stroke a hand against his cheek, tracing gently over the small silvery scar, “I’m just here to provide some music”.

“And you certainly do that, such sweet music. But I see we’re at an impasse, birdie, because I cannot accept such a title while you’re here making all the goddesses envious”

“Hush,” you grin, “let me have this. Don’t I deserve to see my love smile so bright as I tell him he’s more brilliant than every star in the night sky?”

He laughs turning slightly bashful at your words but it’s there, the beautiful curve of his plush lips to grace you with that genuine smile. You do adore seeing him like that, to make him know how much you adore him and see him lose his words because of it. There was a time before when he didn’t take compliments so well and you had to convince him that each loving word was true, those days when he was haunted by his past ventures and the loss of his limb. And it had hurt to see him struggle like that, watch him so slowly come to terms with it.

Ezra starts to say something in return, something you’re sure will be nothing short of poetry meant to flatter you, but interrupts himself with a wide yawn, his torso stretching up with it and causing the grey fabric of his shirt to ride up slightly. The movement reveals the gentle swell of soft golden skin that you are so fond of, that you have often laid your head on as you talked for hours, and that now is another sign of the good life you’re finally living together. You move and hand to where the fabric has ridden up, just resting it there for a moment as he returns to himself to look down at you with that dopey, lazy, happiness written all over his face.

“I love you so much” you stutter, taken by the way he looks framed by the orange glow of setting sun through the window.

“Every bit of you, more than I could ever say” you sigh, moving your head to nuzzle your cheek against his stomach then turn to kiss it, a light giggle floating down to you, “I’m so grateful that my star brought me to you”.

“Your star?” Ezra asks, you hum a yes against his skin then kiss again. His hand lies at the side of your neck, pleasent stroke of his thumb against you.

“Didn’t I tell you the story? The soul star?”

“I can recall every story you’ve ever shared with me, songbird. I can conjure up where we were and exactly how you told it at any given moment. This one is new to me and I would be delighted to hear you tell it, please” he answers, excitement wavering in his tone, he always loves to listen to you.

“Ok, I’ll tell it.” you chuckle, brushing against his belly with your cheek again, feeling him relax further in to the couch as you do.

“It was one of those romantic old wives tales my mother used to share. I never believed it, couldn’t understand it until we met”, you punctuate your words with another tender press of your lips to his skin. “She told me every one of us has a star, our own incredible bright light that watches over us, up in the distance keeping an eye on us. She said our star knows what we need and when we need it, and when it comes to the right time the star will call out to us. If we answer the call and follow where it leads, it will take us to the place our soul belongs”

He hums softly, letting you continue as his hand comes to cover yours that lays on him.

“It was told often, and I always laughed it off. I didn’t feel I belonged anywhere, you know that. But then there was the job, the one on Triada Five,” Ezra squeezes your hand at this, the job you had met on “I didn’t want to take it, it was long and the ship was a rust-bucket that looked like it wouldn’t make it half way there. I was about to turn it down, figured I could make the same credits fixing ships on the Pug, but something...something stopped me. It was like a tiny voice whispering in my ear, comforting and kind, told me that if I took the job I would find everything I needed. And I didn’t even doubt it, didn’t question it at all.”

“It was your star” Ezra mutters, intrigued, absolutely taken in by your story.

You nod, skin soft against his where your head rests, before moving to sit up and placing yourself in his lap. You can feel the pooling of tears in your eyes, you had never let yourself believe it entirely but hearing him say it overwhelms you. If you hadn’t taken that job, who knows if your paths would ever have crossed. Whether it was your soul star, or fate, or pure dumb luck you don’t know but you are grateful of whatever force was in play then.

“I suppose it was my star. I think it called out, and led me to you, Ezra. And I think here-” you place a hand on his chest, over his heart, “is where I belong. With you”

You feel a tear trickle from the corner of your eye, Ezra quickly catching it and wiping it away before he pushes forwards to kiss your lips.

“I think you’re correct, birdie. And it’s dawning on me that I felt it too, long ago” he reveals, arm coming around your middle to pull you closer, “I was lead through galaxies to you. You are my reason for everything”

And then he’s kissing you again; deep and never-ending, just you and him and the peaceful chorus of rustling trees in the forest around the cabin.

You remain like that for a long while, bodies pressed together, mouths open in quiet adoration of the other. The sun leaving the sky as you find yourselves through each other again and again. When he finally pulls away, you are breathless and bursting full of pure affection.

“Come on, songbird,” Ezra says as you chase his lips for once more kiss “Let’s wander down to the lake. The stars are out and I believe we owe them our gratitude”

Permanent tag list:

@youhavereachedtheendofpie @princessbatears @catfishingmorales @hdlynn @fleetwoodmactshirt @chews-erotically @keeper0fthestars @marydjarin @readsalot73 @a-seeker-of-imagination @agentpike @heatherbel @din-damn-djarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @mstgsmy @sin-djarin @huliabitch @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @phoenixhalliwell @dindjar-n @softpedropascal @millllenniawrites @blancatobarxoxo @cyaredindjarin @goblinqueen95 @knittingqueen13 @teaofpeach @agirllovespancakes @insomniamamma

Ezra tag list:

@pedropascallion @justanotherblonde23

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #prospect #pedro pascal #fic #one-shot #fluff #this is really boring literally nothing happens I'm so sorry

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